Sometimes it feels like I have spent my whole life trying to be someone that I am not. I'm not sure why, but I think it has to do with a few things.
First, when you are a female and your heart is made of fire, you are not in line with how others think you should be. So, instead of learning how to harness my fire like a proper warrior does, I've tried to be air because I'm afraid of being hated. So afraid. Air women look like they're always happy and having fun and wearing makeup to the gym. Air women feel so safe and loved. I want to be one so bad! (Not really, but honestly sometimes, really.)
Second, I have a deep fear of being alone. I fear that if I am truly who I am I will be left with no Thomas and no Braedon and no Lily.
Third, I am afraid that in order to make money, I have to act like someone else.
So I think three things are enough for now. Here is why I am sharing. I have spent the last few weeks crying around the clock. I am not depressed. I am not hopeless. I am none of those things.
I am waking up.
I am acknowledging how I was designed.
I am setting those fears to the side for a second because they are not the truth.
The way I explained it to Thomas this morning was like this. If I were a boat, it would seem obvious that I belong on water. But what if I was a boat who just really, really wished she could be a truck on a flat backcountry road instead. Just miles of smooth traveling, no waves, no storms, no unknown depths below filled with haunting scary things that can bite you. So I, a boat, spend my life dragging myself up and down this road like a ding dong, wearing myself down, making a mess, getting so. damn. angry. at the actual cars zooming by. I know it sounds so non-poetic but that's now I feel. Like for the first time in my life I'm like, "Wait a second. I need to learn how to sail the damn seas like a master captain instead of wasting my time over here trying to be something I will never be."
Today I am offering myself grace that it took me 38 years to arrive here. I am offering myself forgiveness for the mistakes I made along the way.
And I'm raising my sail.