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My transformation is just beginning to take hold beneath my feet, the success and results digging deeper roots toward my ultimate destiny. When I look back my old self is a dissipating image, vanishing from my psyche, allowing the new self to emerge slowly, but impressively. Like contouring lines materializing gradually, engaging focus and clarity, a sculptor I have become of my life.

Like Pygmalion’s alabaster creation, I meld my being into the image of my choosing. Each choice, each visual cue, each determination to better myself, adds to the sculpted form I craft. The continual creation molds me into the shape I was destined to become, aligning with nature, outfitted as my authentic self. Arriving at this fate, I feel ease, peace, and rightness, like a knowing where I was meant to be. I am my own sculptor.

Published inHealthy Avenue

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