Returning to Yourself
This journey is not easy, and it isn’t the kind you see on TV. It is not a flip of a switch. It takes courage and strength, and it relies on the voice inside you that says don’t give up, there’s more.
Healing is a lifelong journey, but real healing begins when you stop fighting yourself and make room for all the parts of you that have been suppressed. For me, this journey has felt like a battle with every thought and every feeling, and with every mistake I had to learn to forgive myself for. It hasn’t ended. But it is a journey I have stopped rushing.
A couple of years ago, I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. Today, I am learning to accept myself. The shame and fear I carried left me feeling paralysed. I couldn’t socialise or even leave the house. For many years I believed that if I healed, or learned to love myself, I would find real love and fulfilment. All that did was add more pressure. The past felt like carrying heavy weights, with grief and thoughts that looped nonstop.
That is probably a short summary of what coming back to myself has been like.
I am not going to pretend I’ve reached a place of happiness or joy. Ten minutes before I started writing this, I was sitting in my room feeling hopeless and heavy, with tears running down my face. An hour before that, I finished a show and cried at the ending, where the character finally let go and her life fell into place. It was the happy ending so many of us want.
Even so, I have found compassion for myself and for my parts. It isn’t present every day, but it is a start. I no longer rush my life, and I have accepted where I am. Still, there are moments when grief rises up about the timing of my life, and I cry.
Life is a journey, and healing is one you either learn to love or spend your life fighting.
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