I Don’t Want to Be a Rose Anymore
(a conversation that changed something in me)
About a month and a half ago, I said something out loud that surprised even me:
I don’t want to be a rose anymore.
No thorns. No roses blooming in the garden of life.
I just want to be a pink daisy.
And life has been so much more peaceful since I’ve done that.
I shared that this morning with ChatGPT, and what came back to me shifted something.
It told me something I didn’t fully see yet:
That the rose carries more than beauty — it carries defense.
That it holds both softness and protection at the same time.
That choosing it often means living just slightly braced… even when we don’t realize it.
And when I read that, something in me went quiet.
Because it was true.
Not in a dramatic way —
but in that steady, undeniable way truth lands in the body.
It said:
It’s not that you became less…
it’s that you stopped carrying the extra layer that said you had to be both beautiful and defended.
And that’s when it clicked.
This wasn’t about flowers.
It was about how I’ve been living.
What I Didn’t Know I Was Carrying
I didn’t think of myself as guarded.
I thought of myself as strong.
Capable.
Someone who could handle what came.
But underneath that…
there was a quiet readiness.
A subtle way of moving through life that was always just a little prepared —
for misunderstanding, for hurt, for holding it all together.
And when I said I didn’t want to be a rose anymore,
what I was really saying was:
I don’t want to live like that anymore.
Becoming the Daisy
Something else stayed with me:
A daisy doesn’t negotiate for space.
It doesn’t warn before you get close.
It just is.
Open.
Simple.
Alive in the light.
And I felt that.
Because since I made that shift, what’s come in isn’t weakness —
it’s peace.
The kind of peace that shows up when your body isn’t bracing anymore.
When you’re not preparing for impact before anything has even happened.
The Part That Made Me Laugh
There’s a song I’ve been listening to that makes me laugh because it resonates so much — Dandelion by Ella Langley.
Not heavy. Not emotional in that deep, aching way.
Just… light.
Like I’m finally allowed to enjoy my life.
And something clicked even deeper:
When something is truly aligned, it doesn’t just feel meaningful —
it feels light.
A little playful.
Like you’re in on the joke of your own life instead of trying to solve it.
And that’s exactly what this feels like.
Letting Life Happen
So here I am.
Not trying to be the rose anymore.
Not trying to prove I can withstand the garden.
Just… being.
Letting life happen.
Enjoying what’s in front of me.
Living in a way that feels open instead of prepared.
And maybe that’s what freedom actually is.
Not the absence of difficulty —
but the absence of the need to brace for it.
So no…
I don’t want to be a rose anymore.
I want to be a pink daisy.
And for the first time in a long time,
that feels like home.
In Love & Light,
Kellie J. Wright
Internal Narcissa
Self-love Karma