There was once a woman who didn’t know what she was or who she was.
All she knew… is that she was.
She lived alone in nature.
Surrounded by beauty—flowers in every color, majestic trees that whispered wisdom, and soft, tender greenery that kissed her skin as she walked.
Birds sang beside her.
Animals lived peacefully with her.
Water greeted her with stillness and reflection.
She had no need.
No hunger.
No void.
She woke with the sun, wandered in the wild, laughed with the wind, and bathed in the river.
And every time she looked into the water, she saw her reflection mimicking her gestures—and she’d smile, mesmerized, not by beauty as defined by others, but by the wonder of being.
But one day, as she ventured farther than usual, she stumbled upon something new:
A small community of people.
They looked like her. Walked like her. Stood like her.
And yet—they were startled by her.
And so was she.
The women stared.
They laughed behind whispers.
“Who wears leaves for clothes?”
“She doesn’t comb her hair.”
“How does she live like that?”
For the first time in her life, she felt something foreign bloom in her chest:
Self-consciousness.
Then came shame.
Then doubt.
Until then, she had never questioned herself.
But these people made her feel like she was less.
Like she didn’t belong.
Because to them—if you don’t look like them, speak like them, behave like them, you are nothing but a savage.
And so, she began to change.
She hid her leaves. She tamed her hair. She silenced her wild joy.
She tried—so hard—to belong.
She gave up pieces of herself to gain their approval.
And still… it was never enough.
She kept chasing a seat at a table that was never built for her.
She forgot the trees.
She forgot the water.
She forgot her reflection
That is what happens to us as we grow.
We are born whole.
Wild.
Free.
Alive.
And somewhere along the way, the world tells us who we should be.
And we trade our wonder for worthiness.
Our truth for acceptance.
Our wildness for approval.
But maybe… it’s time to go back.
To the forest.
To the water.
To the girl who once was—and always is.
Because she was never lost.
She was just waiting for you to remember.
🌱 Journaling Prompts — Coming Home to Your Wild Self
- Who was I before the world told me who to be?
Close your eyes. Go back. Feel her. Hear her. What was she like? - What parts of myself have I silenced or changed to be accepted by others?
What did I once love that I no longer allow? What did I stop doing, wearing, saying? - When did I first feel “not enough”?
What moment, comment, or experience planted the seed of self-doubt in me? - What does “belonging” mean to me—and where am I still chasing it outside of myself?
Who am I trying to impress? And at what cost? - Where do I feel most free, alive, and deeply myself?
Is it a place, a state of being, or a version of me I haven’t visited in a while? - If I stripped away all the expectations, opinions, and noise… who would I become again?
What does she look like, sound like, feel like? - What am I ready to reclaim?
A truth? A desire? A way of being that’s been waiting for me? - How can I begin to return to my inner forest?
What rituals, spaces, or boundaries do I need to reconnect with my essence?
Salima
Just me thinking out loud over here