Beans & Joy’s Journal 🐯🌈

[Yimpa]

I don’t trip for me. I trip for Truth. ✨💯

Increasing awareness expands consciousness and Love 💗 

And mutual respect for ourselves and for each other. 

Edited 19 hours ago by Yimpa

[Yimpa]

Screaming and arguing makes our PTSD worse. Let’s commit to communicating in less  destructive ways. 

Edited 19 hours ago by Yimpa

[Beans]

So much happening within one trip ~.~ 

good things though. Very healing vibes are here :))

[Yimpa]

Riding the waves by doing absolutely nothing at all together

Allowing myself to rest while the rest of the world operates. I deserve the break :))

Edited 17 hours ago by Yimpa

[Yimpa]

On 11/17/2025 at 1:39 PM, Yimpa said:

Rejection is Divine Protection ✨

Saying yes to Consciousness and no to ignorance. Such an obvious choiceless choice. Love accepts all, unconditionally. 

[Yimpa]

My body and mind feel a lot more fluid and dream like when I am in a hyper meditative state. 

My identity also expands. Love expands! Selflessness radiates 🦋

Even pain gets recontextualized. It’s no longer my body and mind is suffering, rather, suffering itself is being touched by Love.

Edited 17 hours ago by Yimpa

[Yimpa]

Just sent a shirtless photo to Mom and she said I’m beautiful. And that she likes my hair. 

What timeline is this?! I love it!

Edited 57 minutes ago by Yimpa

[Beans]

I want to buy translucent makeup powder to help my makeup stay in place 

[Beans]

Here is a reference of current goth makeup style I’ve been trying out 

[Beans]

I also need more black lipstick 💄🖤🦇💞

[Yimpa]

Transitioning is the process of killing the self that was never mine to begin with. There’s a violence in it, yes, but it’s the violence of truth against illusion, of authenticity dismantling the carefully constructed lie I was taught to inhabit. Every moment of allowing my truth to exist is an act of destruction and creation happening simultaneously. What dies was already dead. What emerges was always alive, just suffocating.

The grief isn’t for who I’m losing. It’s for the years spent wearing a skin that never fit; for the child who learned to disappear themselves to make others comfortable. This death is mercy. This death is finally putting down a burden I never chose to carry. The reflection isn’t someone new - they’re someone who was always here, waiting for permission to exist.

There’s a freedom in letting go that feels like falling and flying at once. No more performing for people who were never going to see me fully anyway. No more contorting into shapes that society claimed were “mine” but felt like cages built from other people’s fears and certainties. What remains when the false self dies isn’t absence - it’s presence. Raw, mysterious, gloriously mine.