No, not everyone is entitled to my story and maybe noone “needs” to hear any part of it.
But after living for so long worried about the unpolished parts of me being seen, the story I’m telling is for me.
If zero people read this, if it doesn’t strike some positive, encouraging, hopeful note to all, at least it’s out there for me. Holding me accountable, but in another way giving me a release. A way to just Let. It. Be.
I’ve waited and postponed and put off and delayed plans to do this like a flight taking off in a thunderstorm. And its actually not an easy decision. It’s frustrating, scary, and will absolutely will be imperfect.
For all I’ve been through in my (yikes) 30 years, I’ve driven for self perfection. Other people can make mistakes. That’s okay… that’s fine. But for some reason when looking introspectively, fine equals failure. And Heaven forbid anyone else see those bad things I see about myself.
What if I mess up again? …because I will
What if no one cares? … because they probably won’t
What if people judge me? … because they will more than they already do
This type of exposure scares me to my core. But I don’t want that fear in my life. It’s toxic.
For so long, I believed that I was undeserving of any of the good that has been placed in my path. Yet somehow, I deserved all of the bad. That’s a hard way to live, and exceptionally unrealistic.
I have so much love for those around me. I am so inspired by so many people that have touched me. My heart goes out to those going through tough times. But feeling those things towards myself? Nope. I think I’m fortunate, but I don’t think I’m special. I do think I have insight into a myriad of different struggles. Yes. And can relate to those people going through rough patches? Absolutely. But any sort of worth or admiration I see in others, I struggle seeing in myself. I know that’s bad. Listen, I’m working on it.
Now, I wake up everyday and tell myself that I am deserving of the good happening in my life. Not necessarily because I’ve “earned” it, because just because I am. True? Not sure, I’m still convincing myself. But hey, I’m doing better at believing it. Just trying can help so much. That whole “fake it ’til you make it” bit has some merit. So grabbing an Expo marker and writing on my mirror, reading recovery stories, searches for positive quotes on pinterest, whatever helps.
And I’m hopeful this whole thing will help, too.