The earliest memory I have of roses is of my dad plucking them for me from the bush near the post office. I’ve never smelt roses as sweet since—they carried a fragrance that felt like what sugar tastes like. Even the rose bush he later grew for me seemed to bloom with that same sweetness. Perhaps each rose was nurtured with love, and that love lingered in their scent.
Roses have taught me something I want to share. Some may find it a little “deep” or even cringey, but it helps me, and maybe it will help you too.
We admire roses for their beauty, and through cross-pollination they become even more striking. Their scent is unlike anything else—so unique that the only way to describe it is simply, “it smells like a rose.” But every rose also has its thorns. When we’re pricked, we feel the sting. Those thorns exist for a reason: to protect the rose from harm, to keep it safe so it can grow and thrive.
In the same way, think of yourself as a rose. You are beautiful, your presence lingers, and you deserve to be nurtured so you can flourish. But you also need your thorns—your boundaries, your self-care, your ways of protecting your own well-being. As your beauty blooms, so too will your thorns. And that’s not a flaw—it’s how you survive and continue to grow.
Very well written. You wouldn’t think of a rose in that way.makes a lot of sense
<3