The healer cannot heal others without first healing themselves
But how do you heal yourself
without allowing yourself
To break free of all that you thought you were
all that others expect you to be
to become all that you truly are
It’s not about being comfortable in your own skin
But finding comfort in the uncomfortable
Because all that is uncomfortable is what pushes you further
Because breaking the mold and pushing through to the next level is how you grow
and growth is how you heal
She was tired. Exhausted really. Tired of trying to be someone she wasn’t. Tired of trying to contain and stuff and hide the real her. Why must she sugar coat herself? Why did she continue to people please. Didn’t she know they wouldn’t be happy? Didn’t she know you can’t water yourself down? Didn’t she realize there was nothing wrong with the she that she needed to be? She was perfectly imperfect. She was like no one else. Why should she bend and twist and try so hard to fit the mold that wasn’t even made for her. Just say what’s on her mind. Do what she wanted to do. Yes, she could be a miserable bitch. She could also be a sensitive woman. Highly emotionally. She had almost forgotten what it was like to feel. She had been hurt and saddened and disappointed so many times that she had stopped feeling. She started lying to herself. She started telling herself whatever she needed to hear to believe that she didn’t need to feel. So she held it inside. She stuffed it away. She crammed it in and became this other person. The one who pretended she didn’t care. Pretended she didn’t want or need or feel. She shut it off. But that day she was tired. She realized it took too much energy to be this other woman. It took too much fighting and too much negativity. One day she stopped lying to herself and finally admitted the truth. She felt sad and hurt and foolish and broken. And she just wanted to cry. To let it out. But it was stuck. Like the day her friend passed away. It had been stuffed in and pushed away and hidden behind the shadows until she didn’t even know how to get it out. How to let it out. So she sat down and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Breathe. That’s all she needed to do. Just breathe. She took a deep breath and another and another… and she let it out… and that’s when she realized she was enough. She was all she needed to be but she needed to be who she really was. She needed to have feelings. To be a woman. She hadn’t felt emotion in so long because she didn’t want to get mad or upset anyone so she would just smile and stuff it all away. Until the day she broke through and realized those emotions were meant to be felt. You were supposed to feel.
And she thought, “I don’t know how to do this!” I’m scared because I haven’t felt. I just want to feel. And she knew that she could. This was the day she realized it was time to live.
So last week I was inspired to write a post Loving Me which was a love letter to myself. In fact, it encouraged several other bloggers to do the same and I hope it continues to spread. A couple days later I found some old emails to myself and shared them in A Little More Love (cause you really can’t have too much).
So, as I continued to go through some old journals, I stumbled across this letter I wrote. If you have been reading, you know that I talked about how I thought I wasn’t worthy of love. It wasn’t for me. There is a song by Anthony Hamilton called Dear Life and one of the lines says,
” Ooooh sometimes I go on through life
Thinking that love is something that’s
Not meant for me.”
I remember listening to the song after a break up one night and crying, not even because of that person, but because of the fact that the lyrics described exactly how I felt. Today I found this letter and was encouraged to share it with my readers.
For so long I thought I wasn’t worthy of love. I kept thinking, oh, make them run. I will only hurt you. You will fall in love and I will break your heart because that’s what I do. I will bend over backwards. I will be and do and say everything you want and you will love me. A black widow, I will then tire of you, push you away, gasping for air and needing room to breathe. You will grasp on tighter and I will turn. I will freeze over like the ice queen and you will cry and beg for the person you first met. You will clutch on, cling and it will feed my ego for a short time, but then I will grow bored of you. Maybe that’s not the case. Maybe I will be thrilled with the idea of love. The idea of saving or fixing you. A love of nurturing you. But you cannot fill my needs and once I realize this I will let go. Maybe I was settling. Maybe I was looking for the wrong things. I no longer see this. I no longer feel the need to impress. I am me. I am loving. I am nurturing. I’m an amazing woman. I no longer feel the need to prove myself. No longer need your acceptance. I need to be more than what you need me to be. I need to be free. I need adventure. Room to grow, to feel, to love, to explore, to breathe and to fly. In time and in space. To change. To nurture me. But thank you all for the journey. For the lessons along the way. To teach me who I really am. A warrior woman with strength. I finally realized I am too strong and you never could have battled me.
I continue to write my letters, to encourage myself of the need to let go of perfection. Because I am slowly realizing my biggest flaw is nothing more than trying to be perfect.