SHE LOVES ME, SHE LOVES ME NOT.

You'll never know whether you love it from a distance. You have to hold it first.

This bag was supposed to take me two days. Instead, it took me nine months.

Not because it was difficult — out of all the bags I've ever crocheted, this one is one of the simplest. The problem was that I couldn't decide whether I liked it.

I'd crochet a little, put it down, look at it, shrug, and tell myself I'd finish it tomorrow.

Tomorrow became next week, next week became next month.

This bag is the product of indecision and world-class procrastination.

I kept waiting for the moment when I'd suddenly know whether it was worth finishing.

"She loves me. She loves me not"

It's me in my grandma's garden, wearing my little yellow dress, tiny hands carefully pulling petals off a daisy, asking a flower to tell me something about love.

"She loves me. She loves me not"

It's me years later, wearing an oversized gray hoodie, with tired hands and tired eyes, asking a ball of yarn exactly the same question.

Except the flower wasn't deciding, I was.

One evening I got tired of arguing with a bag that couldn't argue back. Got myself together, crocheted the handle.

Then I hand-braided the little flowers and clipped them onto the side.I looked at it for about three seconds and thought: "Oh… I do love you."

Turns out I wasn't waiting to love the bag, I was waiting for it to become itself.

Just a simple gray handbag with a tiny braid of flowers hanging from its shoulder.

Nothing extraordinary or revolutionary. Just... itself.

Sometimes we ask the world to give us certainty before we find the courage to continue.

When, in reality, certainty only arrives because we continue.

So here's your reminder from one very patient little handbag:

Forget the signs, forget waiting until you're sure.

Sometimes all you have to do is finish the handle. Or add the flowers.

Three seconds later, you'll know 🌸