The last six weeks have been a kick to the gut, but unlike past crises moments I tried turning to an inner strength I haven’t called on in a long time. && like many times before I crumbled before I stood up stronger. I let myself sob, weep, wail- whatever my emotions called for. I reached out when I needed to those I trust most && didn’t let myself isolate. But I knew I needed to be the one to pull myself up. I let self care rule my life && although my gut may hurt I’m not in the hospital with that gut ruling my life. (For my gp loves you know what an accomplishment that is.)
I knew that bottling has only ever led to bad decisions, && even relapse. So, I said my hurt when it came. I let my emotions have their own space in my life, knowing it was the only true way to make sure they didn’t rule my life. I wrote, a lot. I read, a lot. I talked, a lot. I let self-reflection be as real && painful as it needed to be. I have never before encountered such a life-changing event so ‘alone’ && I have never been so terrified. I’ve also never proven to myself more that all I need in life is the space to be the most authentic && honest version of myself.
At some point I had stopped relying on my inner strength. I knew if I fell, someone would be there to pick me up. I forgot that inner-strength is like any other muscle, if you stop using it, it will atrophy. But my inner strength has been getting the workout of its life these last 2 months. && I feel it. I feel like I emerged not a phoenix, but a dragon. I found a way to harness the flames that had licked at my heels; && now I could control the fire that had devoured me so many times before.
Listening to: Boyz II Men, End of the Road