Strange.

I'm over dramatic, peculiar, and I talk about rain a lot.  That's what they tell me.
It's true, too.
But I prefer "passionately devoted to arbitrary things", rather than over dramatic.
Aren't we all strange?
Only, some of us choose to be the same kind of strange as someone else; so if someone idiosyncratic comes along, they're automatically the kid who sits alone at lunch. 
• • • •
The flowers bloom in the spring, year after year, just as expected. If one season, they decided to cower & bury themselves in fear of being trampled, May showers would lack a bright conclusion.
I admire the wild flowers that so fearlessly bloom on the rolling hills after an icy winter.
You are one of those flowers.

Sometimes, we have to make the decision to bloom in the spring, despite the fear of being walked on.
You know the greatest part?
Even if you do get stomped all over,
You'll get right back up. I know you will. You see, without you, the fields would become barren.
After all, what would a spring be if you could see daffodils for as far as the eye can see, but not one single sunflower.
The world needs it's sunflowers.

I've been pushed down many times. I've gotten back up, sometimes with some help. But I learned more about myself in the moments between brushing off my knees and standing back up, than I ever have in full bloom. 
No, I'm not any tougher than before. But I've got moxie in my blood, tenacity in my bones, & strong spirit in my heart.

Be the world's sunflower.

xMadeleine