Tag: TheLoveGazette

Embracing the Soul: The Artistry of Self-love

Self-love is the gentle embrace we offer ourselves in a world that often demands perfection. It's the realization that our worth isn't determined by external validation, but by the deep understanding of our own inherent value. It's an ongoing journey of acceptance, compassion, and forgiveness toward the one person we will be with throughout our entire lives – ourselves. In a society that frequently emphasizes comparison and self-criticism, practicing self-love is an act of rebellion. It's a commitment to nurturing our physical, emotional, and mental well-being, acknowledging both our strengths and our areas of growth. Self-love doesn't mean ignoring flaws; rather, it means acknowledging them without letting them define us. At its essence, self-love is the art of crafting healthy boundaries, acknowledging…

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A Bond that Never Makes you Tired

Love! How would you define this four-letter word? For me, it is the very foundation of our breath, the existence of our lives, and the beauty of our journey. From birth to the point we live our lives, every moment and phase is connected with the concept of love, and I believe that it is the most beautiful human emotion that anyone could get. The very existence of human interactions is created by this, and if you know the actual consequences of love, you’ll surely turn into a beautiful person, as love is such a powerful feeling. When considering the many personas of love, you'll get a handful of them, as it takes all forms, from parental love to being…

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Bruises

My parents say I was a pretty babyPeople had turned back and staredPraised them for making;A beautiful baby girl Soon School turned the praise to tauntsAnd Home turned the taunts to cracksI get the smell of zinca familiar metallic taste The blood dries on a crumpled tissueI drop the blade I used.I carry abandoned cities in my ribsAbused borders on my thighs I look at myself in the mirrorI’ve turned my face into a riotMy hands are a civil warIn between my knuckles are small coloniesAs rich in culture that castes me out I hold myself at night as I rock myself to sleepTelling myself no man will love me.After all, what man wants to lie in bed and watch…

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