A soft, funny reminder that apologies are cute, but changed behavior is the real luxury. This piece is about knowing your worth, keeping your magic, and letting your standards get a little more expensive.
Flowers say I'm sorry.
Chanel says I've learned my lesson.
And personally? I think growth should smell expensive.
There comes a certain age where gas station flowers stop working. Because if you stressed me out enough to require emotional recovery, baby's breath from aisle 6 feels a little disrespectful.
I've survived enough life to know the difference between regret and inconvenience.
Regret changes behavior.
Inconvenience buys daisies.
Listen, I am still a soft woman.
I still want the handwritten notes. The forehead kisses. The random "this made me think of you" moments. I still believe love should feel a little magical. A little ridiculous. A little like someone seeing you in a crowded room and thinking, there she is.
But also.
If you made me cry in waterproof mascara?
You may need to arrive carrying a quilted bag.
Because somewhere between raising 5 children, surviving things that should've broken me, fighting battles I never volunteered for, and rebuilding entire versions of myself, my tolerance for nonsense developed a taste for luxury.
Funny how that happens.
Maybe healing looks like forgiveness.
Maybe healing looks like boundaries.
Maybe healing looks like standing in your bathroom mirror spraying perfume that costs too much while reminding yourself that peace should never require begging.
Either way.
Flowers are pretty.
But accountability with gold hardware?
Now we're talking.
with love, just jessica
— Jessica
