We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one direction and not in another. Unevenly.
We grow partially.
We are relative.
We mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present.
We are made up of layers, cells, constellations. - Anais Nin // and look at the beauty that comes of that 💚
you are perfect.