Something strange has happened this week. A couple months ago, I’d broken apart into a million jagged pieces. And then I kind of…. stayed apart in a million pieces. And then something really weird happened.
I just sort of… stopped being in a million pieces. It wasn’t like I put the pieces back together, or even that they somehow re-assembled themselves. It was just that a whole, complete me somehow emerged from the wreckage of the shattered me. All of a sudden, I was me again. But a stronger, softer me– one who is better able to handle being tossed around by life and parenthood and mental health challenges.
I’m not perfectly healthy— I don’t think anyone’s perfectly healthy right now, to be honest– but I am a whole self again. I can be in the moment, whatever the moment is. If there’s something funny, I can laugh without feeling like I’m tearing a hole in my soul. If I’m feeling a bit ungrounded, I can be still in my ungroundedness, confident that I will regain my ground soon.
I am here, and I am me. I am whole.
I am still on my journey. But now, I feel like I can keep moving forward in my journey. I have so much to offer to the world, and I know that more fully now. I can hold myself with love, and I can hold the world with love. I’m on my way.
Featured image was created by the author using elements from canva.com.