When i was a very little girl, i was fasinated by this flower, the hoya. I used to think that my nanna had hand made these little wax flowers and hung them up like christmas ornaments.
I can still hear my nanna telling me not to touch them. It looked so delicate and fragile. I could stand for hours looking at these tiny flowers, never touching, never wanted the beauty to fade.
When i first got this plant, it was just a sick little stick stuck in some soil. I repotted it, moved it around a few different spots, gave it love, it has even been a bit neglected. I have had one or two flowers, never very many, well not till now.
I feel a real connecting to this pretty, unusal quirky flowering plant. When i was growing up and even as an adult, i felt different to everyone else, i didnt feel like i fitted in. I felt like this sick little stick stuck in the wrong soil.
I have moved around trying to find the right spot that was perfect for me. I have flourished and wilted all at the same time, its been a fine line.
Now my life is in the perfect spot, just like my little beautiful hoya wax flower. We both are feeling the love, feel the warmth and are finally in the place we should be, we are flourishing and growing stronger everyday. Both our beauty is shining through.
Somedays we need a little bit of extra care, but at the same time we are strong and resilient.