a neighborhood of my own.

i have a neighborhood of my own. 

it doesn't have a physical street address. but it's made up of my "tribe" of brave, beautiful sisters with unconquerable spirits & hearts bursting with possibility. 

my neighborhood is a familiar place where i am understood.

there is strength there, as we celebrate & rally around one another. where i am accepted, not just tolerated.

we are free to cultivate our spaces with the colors & words that we choose.

we open our doors wide for others to come in for a visit. there is a genuine hospitality here. 

{the text in the box is: the pressure of loneliness}

my street is full of the neighbors you wish you had in "real life."

but it's not bound by distance. {hearts can stretch for miles}.

there's no "keeping up with the jones" mentality here. competition and comparison are void.

my neighborhood is a sacred, online community of artists, dreamers & kindreds.

our stories are intertwined. the connection is instant. friendships bloom naturally--it's not work. 

to all my neighbors: thank you for being a part of my community.
for believing in & speaking beauty to me.
my life is changed by your part in it.

{i'm home}

{source}

p.s. teresa chose the red roofed house on the end; i'm in the hot pink one; and mandy, so fittingly "resides" in the yellow home.  which one will you choose?