As the shit storm of 2020 comes to a close, I know there are a lot of us who are anxiously anticipating 2021 as we have hopes that things go back to “normal.” I am one of the few who is perfectly fine with my new normal and I have no want nor need to return to what I thought was normal.
2020 is the year where God finally took His chancla off and popped me in the back of the neck and head … repeatedly … until I received the sign I asked Him for so often.
I never looked at myself as a strong woman … I honestly just felt like I was built to endure. It wasn’t until I recently posted a before and after on social media had I realized the strength I was capable of. Most saw that post as a weight loss testimony … I saw it as my healing testimony. For so long I considered myself to be broken but I recently learned that true healing couldn’t commence if I continued to let myself be defined by my scars.
2020 taught me to stop playing victim to circumstances I put myself in or circumstances I even created. My therapist told me today that all of us will play three roles in our lives: the heartbreaker, the heartbroken and the fool. I immediately went to make my rebuttal until I humbled myself and said girl, you’ve broken some hearts. After getting my heart broken this year, I packed up all my hurt and ran right to what was familiar to me for the past 15 years. When it comes to my first love, I’m like a moth to a flame though my first love was my first heartbreak. It was in this moment that I became the heartbreaker and had to take accountability for my own actions. I was kindly told to get the fuck on and figure out what it is that I want. Though I was hurt and upset, I took heed to what was said, grabbed my hurt bag and went along my way. To this day, I hold a thousand apologies but a “sorry” doesn’t hold the same weight as a bandaid.
Bag lady. This is who I was for quite some time though I began to realize it wasn’t just my own bag that I was lugging around. I was carrying around so many bags that did not belong to me and wondered why I was constantly tired. I had to learn to let shit go and actually leave it where I left it. Those bags always contained the thoughts and opinions of others, and it’s this weight that I’m most proud of losing.
I’ve lived my life for so long, constantly questioning and second guessing myself … constantly doubting my own damn magic. I could talk a good one but my walk told a completely different story. These last few months of 2020, I learned to create space for myself and bask in it with … myself. I like to think of this space as my own personal cocoon. I curled up in this cocoon and began sorting out my shit. I acknowledged my wrongs and held myself accountable. I acknowledged my own toxicity and held myself accountable. I acknowledged my own trauma and sought help without assurance from anyone but myself. In this cocoon, I humbled myself and began to start over.
I look at pictures of myself now and can’t help but be so wholeheartedly in love with myself. When you’ve spent a majority of your life unhappy with the skin you’re in, finding that self love is such an exhilarating moment. Please believe, there is still work to be done. Healing never stops … it continues as new scars will develop as we experience more of life’s bumps and valleys. Instead of watching every step I take, scared of what cracks I may trip over, I glide … hell, I even feel like I’m flying sometimes because I’m no longer worrying about what will happen next. When butterflies emerge from their cocoon, they’re not hesitant or nervous. They stretch those wings and leap right off that branch … leaving the cocoon of their past behind.
We delight in the beauty of the butterfly but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty. – Maya Angelou 🦋