I seem to struggle the most with writing these truths when I wish they were something different than what is. Tonight I am wishing for softness, and the sweetness of an open heart relishing in joy. Instead, I am sitting in a body ripe with anxiety and a head full of judgments.
I am telling myself how not good enough I am. I am judging who I am by the day I had. Again. It was a boring day. I was bored in it. I made a few poor choices today. To eat crap. To smoke. I never quite felt awake in my day. My energy is low. My body is tired.
I am fantasizing about a life I am not living and judging myself harshly for the gap between the dream and the reality.
I am thriving, in my own way. I wish I could just let it be enough. I wish I could give myself the room to breathe. Without judging myself constantly for everything I am not. Without judging myself constantly for the day I didn’t have or the life I am not living.
My life is not a reflection of who I am. It is just my life today.
There is this fear curdled in my belly. Its voice whispers through my body. It is the fear of a child who wants desperately to know that who she is, is okay. It is a fear of being unloved and alone. It has never been my reality. Not as a child and in not in any of the years since. I have always been loved. I have always been okay. I have always been enough. Yet, the fear has never gone away.
I am not this fear. It may be something I carry, but it isn’t me. Just as I am not the shame I laid cloaked over me in layers. Or the judgments ringing round my head.
I am not sure what I am, but I am not these things.