I started off this year with the motto "Be brave." In some ways I still feel like a coward. I am still getting to that place in my life where I can say exactly how I feel and put all of my flaws on the table.
But I have gotten much better.
I have learned a lot in the past few months. I have learned to let go of the preconceived ideas I had of what my life should look like. To let go of the idea that people would respect or admire me more if my life made sense and looked good from the outside.
It turns out that those that love me love me bare boned and worn down at the knuckles. They love me bloody and raw, tired and hungover, bruised and in tears. I have not been the prettiest version of myself. I have been tired, edgy, unreliable, worn down, depressed and unstable.
I described it to my therapist as two giant hands shaking me. They were holding me tight and shaking me violently. Every time I got comfortable they would shake me again. And then I realized they were my hands, and it was time to peel them off of me.
Through all of this I have also felt alive. Inspired. Honest. Excited. I have seen glimpses of my true self and been reminded of all the things that make my heart beat.
There is still so much I need to do. I am still so young and naive. So afraid. But I am getting braver.