I’m not Lula Mae anymore

I think I’ve changed. Hopefully for the better, although, not entirely.

I used to think that the universe would punish me if I ever got mad at anyone. I actually googled “what would Jesus do?” at one point trying to suppress negative feelings. That’s the part where I think I’ve changed for the worse. I don’t avoid conflict as much as I used to. It has surprisingly worked in my favor, actually. Not that I am proud of it. Calling people out on their shit kinda became… necessary.

Other than becoming a worse person, I have also changed my preferences in random things dramatically!

Small towns or the city? The city! No question! That is not what 10-years-ago me would say at all, though.

I also seem to love tomatoes and onions. Something I removed from every single sandwich I had until I was probably 30.

And most of all, I don’t hate the city I grew up in. I remember why I left, but I don’t hate it at all. I remember my dreams, my wishes and the movies I watched as I imaged what my life would be like far away from that horrible beach I didn’t step foot in for good 10 years even though it was figuratively across the street. I remember hating it so much.

Now, I love it there. I love the simplicity of the people. I love the food. I love the heat. The water is healing.

I guess I only had a certain amount of hate available in my body and I ended up redirecting it. Using it all up toward certain people.

Probably a fair trade. My beach never hurt anyone.

My dad and my girls, walking down the beach in a not-so-hot summer day. Brazil, January 2020.

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