Warning label

Stuck feelings get trapped in my chest and I feel like I’m suffocating. I try to process and it turns into avoidance. Leaning into discomfort my first instinct is to run because it resembles fight or flight and I keep telling myself that I’m sick of fighting. There are dueling voices playing in my mind reminding me of strength and highlighting my weaknesses. “I am a failure” says one side while the other says “prove it”. What is there to prove? The very fact that I am standing is all the proof I should need. I have battled many storms and lived many lives, some of which should have forced me into the ground long ago. Yet here I am. I have sat in discomfort and faced my pains, yet I am still being convinced that I cannot handle what’s in front of me. I feel something that closely resembles heartbreak and instead of holding my heart, I’ve been seeking out self deprecation.

My daughter is watching. She is watching me ride the waves and noticing when I am drowning. She is alongside me during this discomfort, and at times I forget how to be a mother and a human. Though she is a grounding energy, she is not my rock. I am my rock. She offers comfort and I find clarity. 

My mind is picking apart the word failure as if it’s a bad thing that I need to disguise. Failure is an end and only negative if I want it to be. I have failed many things in my past, all which lead me to this moment. And without those hurdles, I wouldn’t be who I am now. So perhaps I have failed, but maybe that’s okay. 

I ride these emotions with a warning label, stating what I am feeling so others know it’s not their fault or their responsibility. I am defining myself by these passing emotions. Those are not who I am, just a piece of my experience. “I’m overly emotional” is the perfect way to gaslight myself into a hush as I navigate and process. 

These days have been really hard, and that’s okay. There was a time when I welcomed change and discomfort. There was a time when I took on turmoil head first and felt confident in my coping mechanisms, but I slipped into a place of contentment. I wanted life to pause for a bit so I could catch my breath. 

No such luck. 

Life moves on and I will work on constantly reminding myself that I am strong enough to embrace discomfort. Change is a part of life that I am grateful for. Life is abundant as long as I remain receptive. I know who I am and what I am capable of. And though it feels like I am stuck in the mud, I love muddy messes.

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