Of surfboards and honey.

There are times when I’m really on top of life. Not that I have everything together, just that I’m happy, content, satisfied with where I am, what I’m doing, who I’m surrounded by and most importantly, me. Like I’m harnessing the power of life, it’s a rush but it’s also peace. It’s like I’m riding a wave, I’m traveling with it, we’re doing great things together. During those times I look at myself and truly see myself, and it makes me proud. It makes me stop and nod in recognition and say, Shirin, you’re a dope person, you’re really rocking it, and I’m happy to be you.

Then sometimes, life just stops caring that I feel like bffs with it, and it decides to happen to me. It trips me up in my strut and turns my world upside down. The wave suddenly rises up and crashes down on me, and I’m tossed around, I swallow water, I know that I know how to swim and yet I’m drowning anyway. There’s no recognition anymore. Only helplessness, uncertainty and frustration at not being able to deal and to be strong.

When I lived in Colorado I rode the wave like I never had before. I loved myself, I loved my body, I felt confident in my body, I felt like I was in charge of my happiness. I could do anything, I knew I had worth with complete certainty and faith. For the first time, I allowed myself to be who I was and I owned it. I rode the wave, and I felt powerful, in balance, I felt good. And then my board was pulled from under me, a storm began brewing and a shark probably chewed up my board because I couldn’t damn see it anywhere anymore. Too much happened at once. It felt ridiculous, like an animated film in which from one second to the next the sunny, gentle scenery turns into a damn battlefield of rain, wind, darkness and broken twigs. Dramatic, I know.

I should probably cool it with the surfing analogies, I’ve never surfed before, but it seems to express what’s been going through me recently. It’s frustrating to know you’re strong and yet you feel so weak. To know you are an inspiring and enriching person, yet you feel like a burden, out of place and like you make yourself unlovable. I’m not unlovable. And that’s why I’m writing this post.

It’s a love letter to myself, it’s a collection of relics that build me up. They hold bits of what makes me glorious and powerful and proud, so I can open them up and remember. This post is a project of self-love and self-recognition outside of my head.

Even though I struggle to embody all of my power and potential at this moment, I want to remind myself that the self-recognition I’ve gained, the acceptance I have found toward who I am, the confidence with which I’ve come to carry myself, that they are still there.

I need my own respect, my own faith, my own vote, my own cheers, my own forgiveness, first and foremost.

I want to remind myself that I am worth it. I am worth someone’s time and love, I am worth their dedication. I want to lather myself in honey and remind myself that I am a queen in my own right.

It’s important to know that the things I want are valid. That the kind of life I want, the kind of love I want, they are justified and right for me. It doesn’t matter that they might not be right for someone else – all it means is that this someone might not be right for me.

It’s okay to struggle, to not be strong – which is not the same as being weak – and to not be able to hold myself for a moment. But I need to know that I’m not small and that no one has the right to make me feel so, or the power.

Even now, when things are hard, I don’t want myself to forget who I am inside and that I was happy and confident and that I can be so again. I can get back on another wave, and I will.

I absolutely deserve the best.


I absolutely deserve the best.



  1. Beautiful blog, I love the polaroid style pictures
    creatife and a joy to read, looks like you get a lot of pleasure out of travelling
    inspirational quotes full of heartwarming cuteness, bold and brave to show some artistic nudity
    hope this blog gets you far!

    1. I also spelled creative wrong cuz I tend not to reread

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