The Beginning

This feels like a long time coming.

For so long, I have wanted to write. In some ways, it feels like the only thing I want to do.

Maybe it feels easier to express through a specific word or a phrase.

It feels easier to convey a message through words on a page than through my voice.

 Maybe speaking feels too real, too true, too vulnerable. It's all of those things.

And maybe that's why I've hesitated.

It can feel a bit horrifying to be seen. Seen in my truth, seen in my vulnerability…and seen for who I truly am…

Because, what about rejection? What if people don't understand what I'm really trying to say? What if they don't believe me?

What if, what if, what if…

It's not that I've stopped wondering about those things, it's just that I've come to a crossroads and I've realized that I must.

Some of these things are too important not to share.

If one person resonates and feels heard or understood or seen…then it's enough for me.

That's what matters. That someone can read or hear what is said and know that they are not alone. That's what I care about.

It's hard and it's scary to share your truth and your story. How will people react? Will they stop loving me?

The truth is, they might.

But I have come to realize that in order to align with my mission and my vision, to do what I have told you that I came here to do, I have to take that risk. I have to be honest with you. I have to be willing to be extremely uncomfortable and misunderstood.

Because that is what most healing requires.

It's messy.

Life is messy.

And at the very same time, it is so fucking precious that sometimes I think we are afraid to acknowledge it. We learn or decide to live in our heads and try to think (or worry) our way through life just so we don't have to feel what is real.

Feel the grief. Feel the love.

It's overwhelming.

I have cried so hard about the anticipated death of people I love, that I thought I might stop breathing.

And you might think, 'wow, why would you do that to yourself?' That sounds crazy. But is it? Or is it extremely real and…inevitable.

At times I wonder if it's less that I am afraid of losing people, but rather that I am afraid of loving them fully. I'm afraid of looking them in the eyes and expressing my love…letting it be real and understanding how temporary it all is. 

Intense and beautiful, all at once.

And SO fucking important.

You don't need to put yourself into a mindset of catastrophe or grief to acknowledge  that you feel. I'm talking about the beautiful things too.

I just want you to consider:

You came here to feel. You didn't come here to think your way through life. You came here to be in a body, to feel, to learn, to grow, to experience, to love…

And I know…getting out of your head and into your body can be scary, and for some, it doesn't feel safe right now. For some still, you might be wondering what the hell I'm talking about - 'getting into your body' or 'feeling'…and that's okay. You don't need to do it right now, but eventually I hope you come to know that it's worth it and it's the entire point.

It has been one of the most pivotal pieces to my own healing and those that I work with.

If this resonates, I would encourage you to sit with this. Ask what this might mean to you.

Do you spend most of your time in your head?

Do you spend time in your body? In your feelings?

Does it feel safe to be in your body?

Do you have tools to ground yourself?

Please feel free to share with me if you feel called to do so.