Who am I?

The quickest way to answer that question would be to describe my roles, habits and behaviours in life…

I’m a children’s book editor, a big sister, a helpful daughter. I try to be a loyal friend. I used to be a girlfriend, a loving partner to a wonderful person. The fact that I am not anymore hurts very much.

I’m learning to be independent. Some days it’s great. Other days I cry and whisper I can’t do this any more.

I’m in a state of grief, for many reasons.

I am also an empath, a highly-sensitive person, someone who suffers from anxiety daily and depression frequently. I am 85 percent sure I know how you are feeling right now.

I can be an intense care-giver at times, a people pleaser. I can’t help but feel responsible for people when I know they are suffering. I’m working on this.

I’m someone who loves music, all kinds, as long as the lyrics have depth and the melody unlocks the parts of me that are particularly tender. I am someone that seeks to understand, to connect, to learn, to reflect. I can be self-critical, judgmental, selfish, impulsive. I get headaches a lot and tired easily.

I like art, but I’m picky. It has to be imperfectly perfect. I love wildflowers and sunsets and stars and hills and lakes and trees and dogs and cats. I have a big imagination — and that can be both wonderful and exhausting. I dream of writing as a career. Poetry is a release for me.

If I love you, you will most definitely know it. But sometimes I retreat for a while, and that can hurt people, including myself when I realize I’ve caused pain. I really, really don’t like causing pain. I appreciate people who need nothing from me, yet check in with me, a lot.

I will believe only in the good in you and will give you more chances than many others would. Even when you do things that are very wrong.

I can’t stand by and watch people suffer or be picked on or left out.

I am silly and playful and a little weird. I have a dirty laugh that matches my mind, and a cheeky wink.

I love making you smile.

I want you to see and live your potential so desperately that I lose sleep over it, and I like sleep a lot. I want you to be happy, so much.

I can drink 3 cups of tea in the morning before I am ready to get moving and I need to move slowly, with gentleness. I used to think I was lazy but now I know I need a lot of recovery time to process and bounce back from our crazy world. I can’t watch the news.

I need bubble baths and candlelight and books and incense and blankets. A soft kiss, a hug and a few words of love will dissolve any of my worries.

I have a lot of hurt in me, and I am trying very hard to let it dissipate out while I learn to love myself, even the parts that make me wince and cry. I make mistakes often but I try again the next day. You may see me suffer, in fact it’s likely, but you won’t see me quit. I come close to giving up more often than anyone realises.

But all of this still isn’t who I am. I’m more than the clothes I wear, the time I spend training, the food I eat. I’m more than my shape, my curly hair, my blue eyes.

I am even more than my ambitions, hopes and dreams, which I’m still discovering and trying to make tangible. I am more than my blocks and weaknesses.

I am something deeper, more mysterious and ancient than that. I am energy that vibrates to a song that I am learning to recognize, so that I can sing it out loud and be proud. I am a physical body with a personality and character traits and an ego and a self and a subconscious. But I am more than that. I am more than my name, my age, my address. I am not my wounds, my fears or complaints.

I am definitely not my biggest mistakes, although they come back and haunt me.

I am stardust, dew and rain. I am part of everything and nothing and I am complete already. I am brave but terrified. I bloom with love and am learning to roar in the face of what scares me, even though right now it’s just a small meow.

I am practising sitting happily in my own unique brand of magic, so that I can face whatever storms come to test me.

Because come they will.

)

Love Letters to Myself

Written by

A challenge: to write a message of love and encouragement to myself as often as possible to help heal the grief of loss, soothe change and kiss deep wounds.

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