So there's this feeling blossoming in my chest. It's warm, and soft. It fills me completely.
I'm holding my book. I have dreamed of this moment for nearly two decades.
It's nothing like I imagined. I am dressed all in black, but instead of a sleek black dress and jaunty hat with a veil, I'm in jeans and a fleece sweater. My slippers are warm and fluffy, and my head scarf today is lavender with teal stripes.
I've changed so much from the girl I was, into the witchymama I am today.
Change is good.
No this day, this moment is nothing like I imagined.
It's better.
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