There are days gone by, dreams I've had of not knowing whether to scream, laugh, cry, smile, or go off but I'm far too delicate for guns, too old for fights. And I know my worth. So instead, I choose myself. Yet my heart aches and heart breaks, over and over again until it stays open, for reasons that are above me now. A weight of the world on my shoulders, things in order, but equally out of place. No doubt, I've lost my grounding. Not expecting nor prepared for this change in season, coming to painful terms with humbling truths about life, I manage to chip away, weather myself, fuckin my own shit up. I am no stranger to self-sabotage, taking on and doing too damn much, overthinking myself into oblivion, making sudden deaths out of new beginnings. I didn't know what to do, though I’ve been here several times before in different ways. A shame on me.
I submerge my body in coconut milk and salt baths with bubbles and lavender oil, the hottest of water shocks my skin, with prayers and meditation and crystals to soothe my soul and cope with episodes of depression. Palo santo to ease anxiety and clear my space of low vibrational energy, with hopes that it’d cleanse my heart and reassemble all of my broken pieces simultaneously, though experience and time alone reminds me that it is never all that simple. Rick and Morty or Bob's Burgers binged myself back to life, humor helps even when shit isn’t so funny anymore. I inhale deeply. I stretch myself, overextending, overpouring from an empty pitcher, as I thirst and cling for dear life to a career I've finally and absolutely HAD TO SAY "fuck this" to (my last day is on Wednesday) in order to save my sanity and save my life, the rising and falling of friendships and relationships kept long past their expiration date for change. Friendships and relationships with those I've invested in, used to or just began to know as they shift, ascend, or end completely, including the relationship I've maintained with myself.
From the outside, looking in, I embody the home of a seemingly happy woman, a whole woman, an all-positive woman. But from the inside, I'm posted up with a gray storm cloud of negativity constantly looming over me and some beautiful ass bandaids to mask my scars and seething wounds, open again and again after attempts to step outside myself, the only home I've known. I've embraced tragedy, suffering, and sacrifice. Vivid memories of my love speaking to inner me one random day, ‘it’s like you’re addicted to pain’. And he was right. That IS a thing. 1:11, 2, 3, 4:44, 5 in the morning, crawled up in a ball on the cold cement floors of my lil dope apartment for HOURS, in tears again. I am deeply grieving so much all at once, while still having to show up for the wellbeing of others, daily. Life seems out of my control and I'm TIRED of goin through shit. But the universe has to get your attention, somehow.
“God breaks the heart again and again and again until it stays open.” ― Hazrat Inayat Khan
And that's a fact. So I begin with a broken heart for more reasons than I can or care to count, again. This time, not starting from scratch, but from experience. Got my ass up, used the bathroom with the lights off that night, guilty and ashamed to see my eyes swollen shut from tears. I fell out of love with myself in that moment. I didn't recognize who I was at all anymore and every part of me that I worked so hard to become was challenged. And depleted. A total knockout.
Triggered by my highly sensitive, ever-emotive self and the demons that remain pronounced and never a secret unless we choose to keep it to ourselves, or not see objectively, who stands before us, or lay beside us, or come inside us without apology or accountability-- we are the women best for them and they the best for us. Idealizing and idolizing the illusion of “you and me”, a light, smoky haze lingers in the air, the dust starts to settle. Fully sober this time, I see everything clearly for what it is and who you are. And who I am. and WHOSE I am.
Swallowed me whole where I stood, as I accepted that I HAVE TO ALLOW endings to take place. Because I had already died inside a long time ago. And a beast awakened within. A battle ensues, this cycle ends, and I ascend. No longer believing that dead-end jobs, a career with no happiness nor joy in it (for me), fragments of men, and one-sided, trauma-bonding friendships or associates is all that God has or all that’s left for me to settle for. Or that the cards I've been dealt or decisions I've made, gifts to me of my recent and distant past, make me any less of the child of God that I AM and have always been, never less worthy.
Allow things to replenish because sometimes, it takes space to fill the gaps. Gaps that look more scary from the outside than when you're actually in them. And really just a paradise, lost-- I face my shadow work, some real triflin and tough shit, but a healing space nonetheless. I adjust to my new form, talkin shit as usual because I can. But gracefully and gratefully as my heart remains open through it all, in a way it never has before, a way that I never thought possible. Reframing my entire past and taking the new shape of my present, I look forward to the future, lightly. Got ghost and disappeared for awhile, deactivated my social media for months at a time, so that I can navigate this new life I’ve given myself the permission to live, unapologetically, world knows I deserve this shit.
Loving yourself is a continuous journey, a constant walk, and often times a lonely one, though you're never really alone (@ God). I'm grateful for true friends and family and a love, all of whom I don't have to nor can I hide from. Those who have seen the best, worst, most beautiful, and ugliest parts of me and have given me the space to grow in every way, but never kept too far a distance for me to know that they are right beside me throughout.
"when you love yourself, it makes a big difference." --Nana
And I’ve really been getting my shit together. Rekindling old sparks with my momma, we really bodied that breaking generational curses thing. I didn't sign up for that, but who better than me? Healing the generations before me and the generations to come of my womb, from the sins of my parents, their parents and their parents, the trauma of my truths, the residue of the unresolved or unaddressed. I know that I have made my mother proud, my grandmother proud. I have made my ancestors smile and they are at peace now. They can trust me. Doing the very tough work of healing from heartbreak and rebuilding trust (beyond packing my shit up and relocating) from the inner child to the taming of my outer child, so that I can allow myself to love and be loved. Because I deserve that. Setting boundaries and letting go of some real ugly shit. I used to loathe some of (you bitches) the women who came before me or after me that didn't seem to mind sharing men we all loved in some way equally, men who hurt us all the same. A deep resentment I harbored, toward women who did not see what I saw, who did not fully know or act like they knew their worth and for seemingly making it more challenging for those of us who did see and did know, for not caring enough about how men treated them or holding them accountable. For not asking the right amount of questions or for simply letting go and moving tf on, though we all long for love so badly even when we know better for ourselves. I know exactly what it feels like to watch someone you love and thought loved you the same, love someone else, questioning who I am, my position. Growing tired of being a warehouse for men in "preparation for another" and the glow up and snap back and movement that is birthed from it all. And the beautiful love that is actually for you and awaits you thereafter. Accepting that I'm no more bitter nor better than you.
Just different.
Living my way to the unknown answers instead of trying to force every outcome. Surrendering, because you gotta let shit BE. Manifesting and having faith in the life that God already has planned for me, that the universe already has lined up. I just need to be in position. Choosing the kind of relationship that I have with my family, friends, and the world, ones that feel good and make me feel good about myself, never devalued, disrespected, disregarded, or taken for granted. No longer afraid to leave the home I’ve known for so long, I've built a new one, grounded in God, truth and self-worth, confidence and security, eternal openness and stability, serenity and love. Duality and peace. I trust myself again, I forgive myself for the first time, I love myself, fully.
To those who know LOSS, and know it all too familiarly well. Loss of a dream, of a job, of a goal or aspiration, of life, of a child, of a loved one, of a relationship, of ourselves. Those who care about how people treat them and aren't scared to be alone. Those who won’t settle for less in any area of our lives anymore, no matter how bad that letting go and movin on shit frightens us or hurts. Because IT WILL HURT SOMETIMES. Those who choose peace over chaos and confusion, those who still keep living and believing in reciprocity in life and love so necessary, so whole, so complete, so full, so bright, so beautiful, so familiar that it can only remind you of the love you’ve found within yourself after all these years. That Higher Power, God love. The love that we gift the opportunity for light to enter and strengthen every broken space. I see it as a new me. Keep growing.
Even with life’s uncertainties, because I will never know for sure of what shit tomorrow is packing, I have hope and flow in the now. And do it all in and out of love. Been holding one long ass breath for 33 years, I can and finally, exhale.
‘Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.’ vaclav havel
And it’ll all make sense some day.
love all ways,
brit- the most beautiful, the most broken, the most open bitch.