This is a personal post. And it’s not. Because we’ve all been through things that have made us feel less than. The more I step into my purpose, the less tightly I hold any sort of shame. Instead, I choose to release it to the light, again and again.
I had a really powerful moment last night. I was listening to music and I was overcome with intense emotions. I started crying, but they were a different kind of tears than the ones I’d often cried over the past two and a half years. Not sad, not frustrated, not hurt.
I felt so overwhelmingly grateful for the journey I’ve been on and for who I’ve become. It hasn’t been easy. I’ve been at the bottom of the barrel many times. I flashed back to coming home from Australia to find my friend’s hair on my sheets. I flashed back to the me who could barely pull them off in order to crawl into that same bed and not get out for two days. Rock bottom.
I felt so insanely powerless that I didn’t even feel like I was allowed to be angry. It took me almost a year to tap into that anger and release it. It took being with my emotions again and again and again, when anything else would have been easier, to heal those wounds.
There was depression and not eating and a trip to the hospital after having a panic attack in the self-help section of a bookstore (ironic, but true).
The path here has been messy.
Sometimes it’s easy for me to forget just what it took to love myself and the world the way I do now. The eyes of unlimited possibility I now see through come from facing all of my fears and inadequacies. Sometimes in a therapist’s office, sometimes hiding under covers, sometimes jumping bravely into action before I was ready: traveling, starting a business, falling in love again.
Healing came from sitting very, very still with my emotions while simultaneously moving towards the big glowing light I saw as my future. One day at a time.
I chose to love the dark, ugly, needy parts that I had put on a shelf for most of my life. To love myself when I felt like the most unloveable person in the world. Imperfectly and clumsily. With no script and no promise that everything would be okay. The inner knowing part of me held that I was enough, again and again, until I finally believed it.
Last night, I was struck by how much I’ve shown up for myself over the past two and a half years. The tears I cried were healing in a new way. Because I was finally acknowledging that I made it out of that tunnel and into the light of the life I dreamed of during those pitch dark hours.
Those dark places are illusions that we have to face in order to see the truth.
I don’t stand from a pulpit and say “rise” from a place of not knowing what rising takes. I know.
So if you’re frustrated with yourself for not being where you want to be, wherever that is, please know that it’s a journey. And also know that anything is possible.
It’s worth the dismantling. It’s worth losing the idea of who you thought you were to find the real you.
Take a moment to appreciate what it’s taken to get here. And then take a deep breath and keep doing the work it takes to create the life you’re dreaming of.