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January 25, 2021

I have Died a Thousand Deaths to Become who I am Today.

 

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We Die a Thousand Deaths Just to Rebirth, Anew.

Last night, I had a dream. There was volcanic lava pouring from my hands while I wept, palms cupping my face, on the bathroom floor of my apartment.

The same place where, in reality, I would weep on nights when combating adversity had brought me to my knees.

In my dream, I was younger, fragile, and wearing white. It’s as if this was a purer version of myself. I wasn’t a child but wasn’t quite a woman either. Like I am today.

I cried until I purged. And out came the magma, hot enough to engulf the world beneath my feet. It was clear to me that this was a message—a cryptic but symbolic message.

Innately knowing this, I awoke from this palpable imagery. I felt immediate tears of gratitude because I know now, unmistakably, that there truly is life after death.

Not actual death—the death of parts of us that no longer belong in our current existence. I am confident that, in this life, there has to be this kind of death. It is the only way we can be reborn—rise above the pain. 

Evolution is the one and only guarantee in life, and we have blindly evolved, without even noticing. Our younger, naïve versions of ourselves are gone now.

There is no child within me, playing, acting out, or throwing tantrums on bathroom floors when life gets tough and heavy on the heart.

The child within me is an adult now. She has learned much; she kept repeating the same painful lessons—not consciously changing the damn course. Until now. Almost by some sort of design or miracle. 

Today, I am genuinely conscious of my blind spots; I can finally soak into them and take action instead of being passive. And these blind spots all remind her, my sweet inner child, of what is true.

To the girl I used to be:

I am no longer you. I have died a thousand deaths to become this woman today, shedding layers and baring courage through resilience. No more bathroom floors will drink my tears.

I have risen just like angels rise: stronger, wiser, and kinder to myself. I am on the verge of releasing all the old to soften into this new.

The new me who is bold. The me who is finally living in a self-giving, mature reality.

I am worthy of my tears; my tears are worthy. But instead of the constant flow of confused cries, I vow to stay empowered. My heart is ready to forgo stopping its beat after being beaten up.

My life is not without purpose, and I am here for it all—even the hardships. I am here, present, with more kindness and forgiveness of my past because it made me who I am today.

I am wiser now; I am an awakening feminine on the brink of dancing with the Divine.

I am ready to live my life deeply—and unafraid.

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