I’m not who I thought I would be

Growth. A word we are all familiar with. An experience we all take part in, in our own unique ways. A beautiful thing. A painful thing. A magical thing.

As my life has been hit with one too many blows this past year, it has shaken my foundation. People and things I have built my adult life on have fallen away. All I can do is watch, and feel, and heal. To act like each loss doesn’t break a piece of my heart would be to play pretend. I’ve done that enough in my life, so I let the feelings overtake me. My empathy for myself and others grows stronger by this. A part of me expanding, making room. I feel broken open, and the pieces are not yet all back together.

I have felt broken before. It’s a place I’m familiar with. A place I tried to run from. I filled my life with things and aesthetics that I felt would fix me. I perfected spaces I created, feeling shame for the corners left untidy. The messy. The ugly. My messes were monsters, created by me. I didn’t know how to have compassion for the parts that felt unloveable. I thought if I was organized enough my mind would calm. It raged on. I thought if I looked like the hottest version of me, that I would feel the most beautiful. I often felt objectified and realized how much joy I find in spending the extra time in the morning in the garden instead of at my vanity. I thought that if I ate a perfect diet I would never have pain in my belly. It gave me a complex around food where certain foods felt like a poison to me. And my belly still hurt, because the problems ran deeper than what was on my dinner plate.

I remind myself of phrases like “growth isn’t linear” “different strokes for different folks” “comparison is the thief of joy”. Why does it feel like being left behind when the path you were taking, leads into a forest of unknowns? I have adopted the mindset that life comes in phases. I don’t believe in levels of life, I believe in experiences that connect us. The things that have happened in my life this year, have categorized me into different camps. The dead dad camp. More niche than that, the dad that killed himself camp. With each specific of the experiences we go through, we become more aligned with others that have shared their own version of the same experience. We are connected through our shared grief, and we know how to hold the space for one another’s pain.

Having broken my collarbone this year, puts me in a category with others that have broken bones. If you’ve also needed surgery because of said broken bone, I join you in the knowing of what that is like. Especially if the injury took place as an adult. It’s an experience that stops you in your tracks, and asks you to slow down. It makes you question what it is you want out of life, and if it’s possible. It leaves you requiring help from others, an uncomfortable limbo. Needing help will leave you feeling like a infant at times… If you know you know. Possibly the most annoying, is it continues to affect your life, even after doctor’s claim you are fully healed. Add it to the scars unseen that require you to move differently than you did before.

I have felt like my experiences this year have shaped me in a way that has made me a burden to those in my life. Constantly in the taker role in a lot of my relationships, wondering when I’ll have something to give. Will it ever be enough? Will they keep score over how often they’ve supported me in my times of need? Will they hold it against me, keeping me guessing on where we stand?

My husband has done more than his share of reassuring me that I am not a burden. I can’t help but still feel that way as more things fall away. I understand what it feels like to be on an upward trajectory and not know how to hold space for the people in your life going through hard things. It can feel like they are bringing you down, and why are they so negative? It only makes sense to cut them loose. Maybe our paths no longer align, it doesn’t mean they won’t connect again. I look back now feeling sorry for who I let go when they were at a low, and maybe I didn’t realize how low. It was self preservation, and that I still wouldn’t change. We do not have endless capacity as humans, and I don’t hold anyone over the fire for not having the bandwidth to make space for my traumas. We are all just doing the best we can, right?

Two things can exist at once, a statement I have infused into my life. Something I have felt stronger than ever before after my latest trials and tribulations. Balance, the meaning of my life. The gray area, the one we tend to ignore, has taught me how brave and resilient I can be. While going through some of the seemingly worst moments of my life on paper, I have found the most peace. The level of calm that courses through my veins is surprising to me. How can I be so level? Am I ignoring how I really feel? Playing off my trauma with humor? Or is it the humor that helps me see that shit happens, life can be fucked up, but we can still have fun? Whatever I’m doing, I feel on track in my soul’s purpose, even if it looks like I’ve taken a wrong turn.

My life at 27 doesn’t look like I thought it would. Because the girl who planned it, was in her early 20’s, and believed too much in the black and white. I feel for her. She had big dreams, some that she’s made happen, but maybe not quite in the way she thought. It’s all okay, because life cannot be planned down to the minute. Life is expansive, it has plans for us that we can’t even fathom are possible. Your whole life can change from a phone call. What you once wanted won’t feel so important anymore. Let what’s meant to go, go.

The way I dream of my life, doesn’t look the same as it did a few years ago. I now dream of how I would like to make others feel, and how I want others to remember me. I dream of creating abundance, in whatever way that opens up for me. I dream of full nights of rest, and a calm spirit. I dream of expressing myself as honestly as possible, and still being loved in my fullness. I dream of walking through the fire hand and hand with my partner and knowing that we have the tools to always be okay. I dream of a heart filled with endless compassion for myself and others while maintaining the boundaries necessary to thrive. I dream of a world where the possibilities are endless.

My goals may not seem very specific, but that’s just how I like it. When I am not so attached to a specific outcome, I am not as broken if it doesn’t pan out how I wanted. The goals that are more specific, are mine to keep and hold onto for now. I’ll share when they happen, and when I’m good and ready. I have no doubt in my mind that I will achieve what I desire to in this lifetime. It’s not about the achievement itself, it’s about the person I become with each new phase. So far, I’m really fucking proud of myself. The woman I am now, is so much better than who I wanted to be at 23. Don’t be afraid to embrace your gray area. You just might find a version of yourself that is so much better than you knew was possible of existing.