I began blogging right around the time of my biggest breakthrough moment in 2015. When I started I saw it as a release. I always felt so much better after journaling so I knew that it would be therapeutic for me but I also felt like there was no way I could be the only person in the world experiencing these thoughts and feelings. So I basically bared my soul for anyone and everyone to see in hopes that it would make me and maybe someone else feel a little less alone in the world.
Every single day I evolve. I become more and more human. This makes me think about myself as a young woman. If I am just now, at 43 years old, feeling more human what the hell was I feeling when I was 13, 23, 33? If I wasn’t feeling human, what was I feeling? Was I feeling anything at all? Because I am such an analytic I contemplate this…deeply. Why now??? What is it about now that makes me feel so human? It’s connection! Connection is something that I never had. I had friends…great friends. I had parents that loved me. What I did not have though was an outlet of self expression. My mother was very big on image so it was forbidden to share the not so pretty stuff with anyone. My Father was a recovering alcoholic who was discovering his own human experience. He grew up in a deplorable environment so he couldn’t teach me what he didn’t know. He taught me independence because that is something he knew inside and out. He never had anyone to depend on…his parents were abusive drunks and he was the oldest of 6 kids so he had to take the wheel. My Father taught me how to be fiercely independent and how drugs and alcohol can ruin lives. My Mother taught me how to show love but also how to hide imperfections. So basically I learned how to do it myself and never ask for help because that would make people think less of me and of course not to numb myself with anything. What the hell??? I was basically a shell of a human being.
I referred to my breakthrough moment as my birth. While I am writing this right now I am realizing more and more how true that really is. Before that moment I was living something that resembled a life but it wasn’t real. From the outside it looked real…married, children, career, vacations, parties, smiles, laughter…it was this well constructed facade. I was basically living a poorly constructed lie. Funny, I thought I was putting on such a great display but looking back I was the only one that believed my own bullshit. Everyone around me knew I was a total knock off.
October 18, 2015. That is when I was born. That is when I showed up in the world as myself. October 18, 2015 was the day that I realized that within a few weeks I was going to be the same age my mother was when she was killed in a tragic car accident. 39 years old…all the life my mother ever lived. I made a decision on that very day to live my life intentionally. I was going to show up in the world on purpose. It has been a process for sure. I had to learn things that I didn’t even know existed….not easy…simple, but not easy. All it took was for me to open my eyes to the world around me. I read books to introduce me to things which I could then relate to experiences I have had in my life. I used someone else’s discoveries to guide me into making my own.
Simple…but not easy. I feel like I am an exposed nerve most of the time. 39 years of my life I have to retrace and almost relive mentally. All the fuck ups…I have to own them. That shit hurts. Not to mention…the more human I am…the more I fuck up but thankfully now I can fix the fuck ups in the moment before they spiral out of control.
I feel like it is my duty…my responsibility… to put this out there because someone put it out there for me. All of the books, blogs, podcast, etc that I have learned from I have to pay it forward. I know for certain that someone, one person, will read this and feel more human. I know that for fact because I am that person.
If this resonates with you please share!
