Never Thought I'd Admit This.
After what seemed like 25 years under a giant boulder, I have awoken. My body is tight and sore, my skin is pale from lack of sunlight, but I am here. I walked down the street, breathed in the sweet air, and basked in the peaceful sound of the melting snow draining into the sewers. I felt the tiniest of sparks within my heart and for more than a few moments, my whole self and the world were teeming with new life.
It was only a few days ago that I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the doors of the subway train. My once-treasured Canada Goose parka had stains on it and no longer fit as it once did. My Nike high tops were shriveled, misshapen, and were dirty with flecks of paint I used for the feature walls in our dining room. My black tuque was stretched out, had lint and cat hair all over it, and sort of just lay crumpled up on my head. There were heavy bags under a set of eyes that had not a sparkle, a pale complexion that lacked any sort of glow, dry lips with not a hint of pink, and unruly eyebrows galore. Yes, this was unsettling, but what totally freaked me out was that my inner self was even more unkempt. Everything I had been dealing with, all the weight that had been on my shoulders had leaked into every cell in my body. Then, the dreaded thought repeated itself over and over in my head: I don’t know who I am. Goddammit.
It’s been a rough winter here in Canada. With extreme cold warnings daily, it felt like it would never end. Locked up inside wishing I were anywhere else but here, the seasonal depression set in, accompanied by funerals, fighting, growing, moving, shedding skin, peeling back stubborn layers and uncovering more of my own madness.
I never thought I’d admit this so bluntly, but here goes. I am not perfect. I’ll say it again. NO, I AM NOT PERFECT. Far from it, in fact. But I guess I’m learning to be OK with that, and wear it as a badge of honour instead of a seal of shame.
So that takes me back to the tiniest of sparks, that one blissful glimmer I felt that awakened me from my slumber. I’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed our conversations, your comments, your sweet words and our connection. I realized that this is what keeps me going, keeps me grounded and my heart feeling full. I want to be seen, I want you to know me, the real authentic me, not some “version” of me that I write from because I feel insecure about what I’m actually going through.
Love me, hate me, agree, or disagree, I can’t change who I am, what my heart sings about, or what stings my soul. All I can do is share. And share, I will do.
It’s time for the birth of something new after this harsh winter of death and darkness. I am ready… are you?? ;)
So much love,