View this post on Instagram
I always said I could write a book and still shock most of the people who think they know me.
I’m not proud of this but now I no longer carry the shame and am working on not caring about what other people think. It’s time I put it all down.
The road to here—this place in time that I now live—was more than bumpy. It was like a devil of a roller coaster with never-ending twists and turns and loops through fire.
For someone who gets death-gripping vertigo and motion sickness, you’d think I would’ve chosen not to ride the coaster. You’d think I would see it from afar and run in the opposite direction.
Nope. I always thought this time would be different. This time I could ride and tame this devil and cure my motion sickness, my own pain, turning it into a tunnel of love. I thought that with love and softness I could make all the pain, both theirs and mine, go away.
I wanted to fix it all and I believed I could.
But I couldn’t.
This morning, I went onto Elephant Journal to read some of the new articles there. I came across one particular author and an article she wrote not too long ago.
It was beautifully written, with so much wisdom. I realized that this article encompassed my life’s mission.
“Goodness is the essence of our existence, but conditioning, upbringing, and experiences make us who we are today. The obstructive situations we go through in life create many different aspects and facets to ourselves—good and bad. But deep down, we’re all human with an infinite supply of goodness.” ~ Elyane Youssef
Ever since I was little and in pain, I remember I believed that things could better. If people would just listen, I knew they’d see. If only they could stop, put down their pain, put down their trauma, and see the pain before them.
But they didn’t because they couldn’t.
I’ve learned that I have to meet and see my own pain. I have to pull out my own thorn. I have to claim my “Heart of Te Fiti” and turn back to the beautiful art of God that I am.
No one can save me or fix me, and I can’t do this for another.
A long time ago, I adopted other people’s ideas of me, beginning with my parents. It’s my mission to go back there, little by little. There I’ll find my true peace and sit within my first self, my truest self, before the pain got in.
If you saw her, if you could be her and live her life, you would understand.
My heart pounds in my chest as I write these words. Something inside me comes alive when these words come to me, something strong and unfamiliar, but at the same time I know the feeling is mine. I am waking up to the truth of the matter, the root cause of my pain and suffering.
I never did anything wrong.
I am not bad.
From day one, I was only reacting from a place of fear because I had to—it was all that I knew. It’s where I came from. But we’re meant to begin from a place of love, not fear.
We are not animals; we have the ability to change the narrative. To change our stories with what we learn from the pain we see. To stop handing over the same patterns that keep us from peace.
I believe this with a hundred percent of my soul.
I want to listen to my children in their pain, meet them there, and see what they need me to do. I want to see what pain I gave them, and what pain I can take back.
They were never meant to carry this, just as I wasn’t. Pain is heavy—that’s why we need the light. It brings so many things to life. It frees us from the dark.
Put down your pain and step into the light.