Be Your Own Muse, Part II

"I am my own muse. I am the subject I know best. The subject I want to know better." — Frida Kahlo

Lately, I’ve been leaning into the habit of journaling, especially with the note-taking feature on my Kindle Scribe. It’s my way of staying grounded—an act of self-commitment. On my birthday, I treated myself to three of Nina Madsen’s books for just \$0.99 each (an absolute steal), and something about the way she writes spoke straight to my soul.

The first journal prompt stopped me in my tracks. It asked:

**🖼️ “If your life were a painting, what would it look like?”**

And I saw it—

A girl cradling her head, painted in deep blues and blacks, set against a dreamy wash of pinks and purples. In the background? A phoenix rising—its wings brushed in gold and silver, lifting from ashes that once whispered of pain. There are bruises too—honest and unapologetic.

**💪 What strength could this offer others?**

Maybe a sense of *clarity*. Maybe a quiet reminder that wounds can be part of the art, not something to hide. The image tells a story: *you are not alone.*

**🌟 How would this guide the rest of your life?**

The answer came tender and true: I want to treat others the way I *wish* I had been treated—with gentleness. With grace. With care. We don’t know what invisible battles someone else is carrying.

**📖 What could this story teach those who see it?**

That pain can coexist with power. That your story is valid, even when it's messy. That loving yourself—even when it’s hard—is a quiet act of rebellion against every version of you that thought you weren’t enough.

**💔 And how did this journey shape who I am today?**

I’ve built walls. I carry the scars. There’s a lyric by HONESTAV that haunts me:

*“And I don’t want no new friends, my heart’s still got bruises.”*

That line *is* my painting. I’ve closed myself off in ways I wish I hadn’t—but I’m still kind. Still loving. Still me.

I just protect my peace now. I hold my heart like something sacred.

And here’s the truth:

**I will love myself—even when others don’t.**

Even if I still hold the world at arm’s length, I know one thing: I’m no longer at war with myself. And that’s a start.

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So far, Nina Madsen’s journal has been everything I didn’t know I needed. There’s a raw honesty in her writing that feels like a deep exhale. One quote keeps echoing in my heart—it’s a simple one I saw online, but it’s stuck with me:

> *“Envision your highest self—and show up as her.”*

That’s what being your own muse really is. It’s not about chasing perfection.

It’s about *choosing yourself*—especially when the world forgets your light.

It’s about being soft, even when life makes you hard.

Just the other day, my neighbor gave me an expensive makeup set she won at a work event. A stranger’s gift. I didn’t know how to *receive* it—how to let love in. But maybe that’s the lesson too:

**Let love in.**

Let it soak into your wounds like gold. Let it seal the cracks. Let it remind you—you are not broken, just becoming.

Like a phoenix rising—again and again.

Forever becoming,

**Chloe Rose Violet** 🌹