‘grasp, clutch, cling to, keep, carry’
I had a tight grip on you for so long.
My arms, my hands, they were tired… and yet I couldn’t bare to let go.
I was scared.
If I let go…If I let you go, I would lose everything you brought into my life. Everything you made me feel. Everything you allowed me to believe about myself.
I held on tightly because if you were to go, what would be left? How would I know that I’m strong, attractive, capable, if you weren’t here to remind me?
In reality, we parted a long time ago. We were no longer an us. We hadn’t been us for years.
But it didn’t matter, my mind held on to your image of me.
My mind clutched onto your words of encouragement, my back ached to feel your hands supporting me, my heart expanded when reminded of your love. My shoulders relaxed with the knowing of your presence.
Even then, I moved forward, new people, places, risks, I thought I was making it, people admired my strength…but I kept glancing back…and like a child exploring her environment for the first time, I felt comforted in seeing you behind me. When I fell, I would hold the pieces in my hand and come to you. You patiently put me back together so I could venture out again.
Why would I walk away from that? Because there was a knowing, a quiet hum of a voice that told me that I needed to walk alone, that I needed to experience nothing before I could experience everything.
How did I walk away? One small, painful, challenging, courageous step at a time…
The truth is that it wasn’t about you. You were a messenger. It made me sad to think of it this way. I wanted to hold on to the romantic version of it all.
The truth is that you were a fire starter, a match, an igniter, your presence was to shine light on my soul. Your departure was to teach me how to keep the fire going, how to make it stronger myself.
Instead of understanding this, I searched for your replacement. I urgently moved from one distraction to the next. I grasped at the fillers, nothing was too small, I was thirsty for validation, for love. But even when the external ego boosters were abundant, I remained unquenched.
Here and there people came into my life to remind me to stop running, to sit still, to wake up. Here and there I caught a glimpse in the mirror of the young girl I used to be…but more often than not, I couldn’t look at her, I couldn’t hold her innocent, sweet, playful gaze. She just wanted to spend time with me and I deserted her, over and over.
Then one day it hit me. I share love with my family, my friends, I hug them, kiss them, I think of them fondly, I listen to them, I honour their beauty, their strengths, I empathize with their fears – and yet I wasn’t able to do any of this for myself.
So I crawled over to the big mirror in my room, I looked in and I held her gaze. Through tears I apologized and I promised not to leave. Through tears I laughed. I laughed because it all felt so silly, so cheesy, and yet I couldn’t look away.
I wrapped myself in a big hug.
This was the start of my journey home.
This was the start of releasing the grip, of my muscles relaxing, this was me waking up, looking in.
I kept at it, I talked to myself. I sat with myself. I learned how to be a better friend to myself.
My steps got steadier and in time looking into myself replaced looking behind me.
Are you taking the time to really look at yourself, to really talk, to really feel?
Are you holding your own gaze?
There is so much love for you and the abundance starts in your own eyes.