The calm you feel when you somehow manage to make it to the other side of the low.
Where all that pain and emotion, which felt life threatening, somehow moves into the distance.
Not completely. It’s not fixed. But that tsunami of brokenness pushing you over the edge has cleared. The heaviness lifts. The continuous emotion and tears pauses. The flood dries.
And in the calm after the storm, I look in the mirror… I look at myself and I think that all my life I’ve just been fighting me. I’ve been putting life on hold until I was prettier. Not posting those awesome pictures with a celebrity cos I think I look fat (and then my harddrive breaks and I lose it forever). Not wearing those clothes cos they’re too revealing of my stomach or arms or bum (and then I put on more weight and it doesn’t fit or worse, it tears never having been worn). Not doing things cos I’m embarrassed of how i might look doing it (and then the opportunitys over forever).
I feel like I’ve wasted the last 30 years waiting to be someone I’m not. Instead of just being myself.
Sure, I struggle knowing who i am at times.
But that’s life. I need to stop waiting. I need to let go of all this pain and shame that keeps knocking me down.
This morning I thought about my posts from the last week and I felt embarrassed. It felt so revealing and imperfect that I felt that fear of showing my face again. The yearning to keep hiding. Until I’m pretty enough. Until I’m clever enough. Until I’m lovable enough.