Comfort is security. It's that bearable silence on unbearably long drives. It's unconditional. You in your rawest form: fearless. Comfort is self-love despite the disheveled eyebrows, undyed grays, chipping fingernails and stained stovetops. Comfort is looking in the mirror and smiling. Comfort is looking in the mirror and wondering how you can be better. Comfort is believing you deserve to be.
Comfort is lying next to someone for hours as you play BuzzFeed quizzes just to see if your answers match up. It's nudging closer just to feel their skin. Comfort is saying out loud what you've been writing in quiet for weeks. Comfort is the one who helps make that possible. Comfort is people who feel like home.
Comfort is that first cuddle with your sleepy pup after its bath. And the smell and sound of crackling candles on a chilly winter night. Comfort is pizza and wine. And your girls.
Comfort is necessary. It gives hope to the hopeless. It validates a sense of contentment. Shows you that happiness, however fleeting it may seem, exists. That it's pure and that it's something to strive for.
Comfort comes and goes. Sometimes it lingers and sometimes it drops in for only a minute or two. Its role and medium transform as we do. But it will always manifest itself in some way or another. We just have to seek. And recognize. Find your comfort.
The #100daychallenge writing series is my way of holding my right brain accountable for all the brain fog in hopes that I'll learn to creatively organize my thoughts and learn something(s) new about myself in the process. The challenge includes prompts from the San Francisco Writers' Grotto's 642 Things to Write About. You can also follow my #100daychallenge here.