Akemi Dawn Bowman Quotes

Grief is a monster - not everyone gets out alive, and those who do might only survive in pieces. But it's a monster that can be conquered, with time.

trying to think of a way to change my future so it stops feeling like an empty hallway that stretches forever and ever.

I'm not looking at them, Jamie says softly. "I'm looking at you." When I bring up my eyes, I'm looking at him too. Like, really looking at him. It's hard to breathe when all the colors of his face are so rich and intoxicating-pale blue eyes, a honey tan, and dark chocolate hair. How could someone so beautiful be looking at me the way he is, with half of a smile and affection in his gaze? What does he see? And then I realize. He sees the same thing I see when I look at him. He sees something beautiful.

I need to figure out where my life is going. I need something that is mine. Otherwise . . .' Otherwise I'll never fully break away from what my life has always been. I'll always be attached to it, like a branch that's growing farther and farther away but it doesn't matter because its roots are a part of the tree's roots. I need to be my own tree.

There's an entire ocean out there, Kiko - swim in it!

The painting isn't about the starfish. It's about the girl who wants to venture out into the ocean, away from the starfish, so she can feel like she matters.

tired of wishing I were someone else and tired of feeling like everyone expects me to be someone else

He doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve; he keeps it in a locked box with all of his dreams and expressions because he doesn't want to share them with the rest of the world.

But I don't need an apology. Not anymore. I have my whole life ahead of me - there isn't room in it for anger about things I don't have the power to change. I've mourned the loss of the mother I imagined could exist. I accept the one I have will never be the one I need.
And that's okay - because I will be the person I need. I will be the one I can depend on, the one who has the power to make my life better or worse.
I'll still panic when I'm in a crowd. I'll still question whether people mean something different from what they say. And I'll probably always feel my heart thump when I think someone is criticizing me.
But I can live with that.
I accept myself.

When I look over my shoulder, I see Jamie watching me with the same adoring smile time he has from the first time I met him. Jamie is not a starfish. Not even close.

And I decide, right there and then, that I don't care if I'm not someone's idea of pretty. I don't care if my name might disappoint someone, or if my face might disappoint someone's parents. Because that says so much more about them than it does about me.

He says it's not good to complain about the things we can't change.

You care too much about what other people think. I mean, so what if you fail? So what if it takes a few tries? You're following your dreams. It shouldn't matter to anyone else how long it takes you or what your journey is like–it should just matter to you.

I'd prefer if she just didn't affect me anymore. I'd prefer if I hardly had to think about her at all. Not because I hate her or anything, because I don't. But thinking about her hurts me; talking about how she makes me feel hurts me.

What I want is for the hurt to stop. I want a mother who thinks more of me than she does. Who recognizes that I'm a better person than the version of me she has in her head. I just want her to know me, and be interested in me, and care about me without it being because she thinks she's supposed to.

I have my whole life ahead of me–there isn't room in it for anger about things I don't have the power to change. I've mourned the loss of the mother I imagined could exist. I accept the one I have will never be the one I need.

And that's okay–because I will be the person I need. I will be the one I can depend on, the one who has the power to make my life better or worse.

It's good to stay motivated, but if you're putting so much pressure on yourself that you're making yourself unhappy, that's not good. Try not to be so hard on yourself, okay? Set a pace you're comfortable with. Enjoy the journey.

There has to be honor in success, otherwise it isn't earned -- it's taken.

There's so much earth everywhere. It's like all the people migrated to these pockets of lights and noise, and they left all these miles and miles of nature completely untouched.

I don't want to be perfect. I want to be vulnerable and messy and free and wild. I want to experience all the crooked edges in the world, and make mistakes, and grow from them. I want twisty roads and dark corners and big, wide bends.
And I know my parents won't ever agree, but I wish they could at least see my version of the world as a possibility.

Jamie steps closer to me, his face falling back into kindness. "That's good Kiko. Say what you want to say. Say everything. I;ll listen to it, and I won't fight with you. Because I love you, and because I know this is what you need. So tell me you're angry. Tell me how terrible I've been. Tell me I made the wrong choice. And the, Kiko, forgive me. Because I'm sorry. I'm sorry, and I love you.

You know, if someone is going to be mad at you just because you didn't let them have their way, you're better off without them.

I don't want to need anyone. I want to stand on my own two feet. I want control of my own life and my own emotions. I don't want to be a branch in someone else's life anymore–I want to be the tree on my own.

I want all the strength to come from me. I don't want to depend on anyone for anything ever again.

But some people are just starfish--they need everyone to fill the roles that they assign. They need the world to sit around them, pointing at them and validating their feelings. But you can't spend your life trying to make a starfish happy, because no matter what you do, it will never be enough. They will always find a way to make themselves the center of attention, because it's the only way they know how to live.

Don't let (a chance) go to waste because the reality of your dreams isn't as pretty as you'd imagined.

It's strange–hope can make you forget so much, so quickly. That's why hoping is so dangerous.

I'd rather have an ugly face than an ugly heart.

I know not every family is the same. We all have different personalities and names. Different colors in a box of crayons. Different shades in a box of graphites. And maybe love looks different to different people, the same way beauty looks different.

But the kind of love I need isn't the kind I have. I guess I'm still trying to find a way to be okay with that.

I draw a little mouse so afraid of the world that he hides in the dark until he goes blind.

I've always felt like I desperately needed to say my feelings out loud - to form the words and get them out of me, because they've always felt like dark clouds in my head that contaminate everything around them.

I want to find self-worth without needing it to come from someone's approval.

If you don't know where to look for her, you might not see her at all.

I want to get away. I want to start over, so I can figure out who I really am and where I fit into the world.

Hearts aren't meant to be broken an infinite amount of times.

I feel like I'm the one made out of paper.

I live my life in the small space between "uncomfortable and "awkward.

And the more I think about it, the more frustrated I get by the entire concept of a backup plan. Because it only ever seems to pertain to people who are interested in art, music, theater--and yes, the circus. Nobody would ever dream of going up to someone in medical school and telling them, 'Gee, I really think you should have a backup plan. You know, just in case this doesn't work out for you.

I'll be right back," she says, and as soon as she disappears into the next room, I feel like someone has yanked my social crutch out from under my arm. I'm floundering. All I can think about is Emery coming back so I can have someone to hide behind.