The wreckage. The agony. The affliction. The weeping for the child within you. The mourning for what was supposed to be. The Season of Sorrow - at times a consequence of fate, at times the direct result of calculated harm.

Despite the heaviness of The Season, there is nothing more significant than the choice that is presented within the slumps of its suffering. That is, the choice to retaliate with darkness, or to resist the urge to defend and respond with the gentleness of light.

I have come to a point in my life where I have surrendered to the idea that I have control over how I am perceived, and in turn, how I am treated by other people. I have accepted that I am unable to reason or plead for hurtful behaviour to cease once a person has committed to pursuing it. However, what I do have control over is what I choose to do with the destruction presented to me. And what I choose to do is turn it into something beautiful - every single time.

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