If you knock at my house you can find me like this

Wild, fierce, and barely tamed this tiger bikini doesn’t play, There's a specific kind of quiet ache that comes with knowing you're no longer the person someone still describes you as. It's not a rejection of who you were, but a subtle, almost physical gap between a past image held dear by another, and the complex, shifting landscape you currently inhabit. And sometimes, you just wish there was a gentle way to bridge that distance, or perhaps, simply acknowledge it in the shared space.