the girl i was before i got sick. the one that took the plane ride to bali and explored with strangers, fully confident of the journey. at peace inside. presence. before anxiety made her a different person. before she started mapping out and obsessively planning for the future. before she thought she had a limited time to be healthy left. the girl who did not know that by turning and believing the inner scared voice that was born when she got sick and amplified when she was betrayed she would become sick and obsessed. that she would lose everything- most importantly herself.
its been 5 years- i have lived sick. i spent them- afraid. desperate. grasping. controlling. frozen. rigid. stuck. jealous. alone. angry. resentful. low. waiting. pushing. as i continued sick in these emotions, i only got worse. the only was out has been through. 1 hard thing at a time.
now – not only am i returning to that girl. the one that smoked weed in the park after school. that had sex outside of sorority formal on a bench drunk with 300 people 100 feet away. the one whose idea of fun is camping and running and skiing and meeting strangers. getting drunk on a tuesday afternoon. whose passion for life and drive shatters ceilings. the one who adventures and explores with risk and trust. that girl still lives inside of me, and shes no longer covered in dust in a corner. shes been dusted, but she doesnt stand quite center anymore. she has been met with a woman who knows both sides. that can play the games, create polarity – yet still has fun. who no longer tests people, or lives with an undercurrent of control. That has met herself in the lowest of lows without anyone to promise her she would be ok. that does not NEED anyone to promise her, anything anymore. that was left to learn how to create her own happiness, so that the dark always has a light. who dropped unrealistic expectations, and just loves. that connects beyond things she can see and touch. whose patients break down in rooms and bear their hearts because her empathy knows no depths. who has made amends with her parents, and did her best to start over again. that did not let herself get knocked out when she was knocked the fuck down. that smiles again, and lets the sunshine beam through the windows and touch her heart. that cuddles her cat before bed. that hangs out with neighbors watching sports re runs and music videos with NO PURPOSE other than to just simply be. that gets on coaching calls becuse she wants to learn how to be a better listener for her patients and future family. that wants to be a mother but also stay soft and playful and adventerous. that opens her heart again, even when its the scariest thing in the world after the storm she just weathered. who knows that she is more than worthy of love and full acceptance, and does know forgiveness is always the most loving choice. who didnt know that in the past. who regrets and fears and loves and holds. shes messy, loud, loving, forgiving and compassionate. shes wild and free. shes slowly making her way home.
she is learning to just be. i am allowed to just be.