No one wins.

Because it’s not a game. Not a competition. It’s life. Apparently, it is not for the faint of heart or the weak of will. But who gets to decide who is weak? Who is faint of heart?

“I want to go home,” I found myself wishing often as a young woman. Which is a funny thought, for a girl who had no true home to speak of. Twenty-five different “home” rentals since I left my parent’s house at 18, I was still “homeless” in my early 30’s (I’m now in my 40’s).

I was still completely devoid of that feeling of “HOME”.

These places were just houses though. Bricks and mortar. Just a space. Space to put furniture in. Space for my baby girl to play. Space for me to work.

Ironically, with all that space, I hadn’t created room to think, room to nurture, room to grow, or room for me or my inner being to flourish.

“Take me home”. I longed. My heart ached for it.

“I’m not strong enough to find my way anymore. I’m lost. At sea. A sea of emotions. Emotions I can’t manage or deal with. And they just keep coming like waves. How long can I tread water?”

I was also super dramatic! ( I chuckle here, at just HOW dramatic). But the feeling of drowning in my own life was ever-present.

To that point, in my 30’s, I had always seen myself as independent, strong and capable. But, the truth was, I was a puppet. I danced when my strings were pulled, and the smile painted on my face hid what lay beneath.

My wooden ears heard nothing. My blank eyes saw nothing. Not the guidance offered. Not the signs that flashed before me and most certainly not the voice inside screaming until it was so hoarse it just petered out and gave up.

It was there. Always. The voice. Just waiting for me to see, hear, feel, or speak my truth.

It took me the bulk of my life, right up to the day it all came tumbling down at 36, for me to deeply grasp this simple fact:

I am where I am in life because I chose to be here. I’m here because I chose to let someone else place me here.

I allowed it all.

I have crazy willpower. I was (and am still) tenacious as hell, but I hadn’t exercised my right to use it yet, for MYSELF. I’ve had it used against me… No, wait, correction.

I ALLOWED it to be used against me because I hadn’t yet found my power, my voice, my truth. I’d used it only to survive, to exist and to cope.

Never to thrive, grow and expand.

And as such, I hadn’t grown roots, anchored myself in my own narrative, and I would remain desperate to go home, wherever that was…

“Everything is a choice”.

I’d heard it said again and again in my life. Friend and foe, strangers and kin.

Do we? Do we really have a choice? I’d rant. Am I really this weak? Am I faint of heart? Do I know so little about myself and my life? Have I chosen this all, each instance of my life?

The rage in me, wrestling with these thoughts HONESTLY for the first time, through eyes that could see they were completely possible and true, was volcanic.

The simple truth: YES.

I have a choice. ALWAYS.

I didn’t want them to be true, those words. They invalidated swathes of my life, lived in defense of my reactionary ways. All of my justifications for making decisions that hurt me. They were raw, cutting, and horrifically valid.

DAMMIT!

Coming to grips with the fact that “EVERYTHING'S ON ME” was a mind-melting journey.

And I know that many are not prepared for it yet, and many others journey there now. For each of you, I have nothing but love and empathy.

Awakening is excruciatingly beautiful.

“Each instance shapes you.”

I’d heard that said plenty too. And in my stubbornly protected, victim mindset, I followed those thoughts with;

“No wonder I feel bent out of shape! People have been so crap to me my whole life!”

Simple truth: I’ve chosen instances and/or reacted to them in ways that have battered me continuously over the years.

Did I dislike myself this much? Surely not.

Some more simple truths: Yes. Yes, I did lack love and empathy for myself on EPIC levels. I was trained to. And while that part of it, is not on me, it’s ALL on me to have changed that, from the moment I realized it.

To be engineered for so long by both others, and then, in turn, myself, it was the hardest thing to unlearn. But to see it clearly, once I woke up was the most painful gift. One I will always be grateful for.

All of this to say that daily I see, feel, hear and sense other souls journeying this way, each day. And I honor them.

And while I still have so far yet to journey, I can say that those first few steps, when the earth shook with each footfall shattering the reality I knew, forcing me to walk the shard littered path until I was clear of any more doubt in my truth, were the steps that began my self-love journey.

They were my first sweet taste of HOME.

Self-love appears in so many forms to so many people. To some, it’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath, or a long, sweaty run. To others, it’s painting their emotions onto a canvas or shaping their thoughts into a poem. It’s speaking their truth, living with the freedom of knowing they have placed their wounds down with love, and let go.

Because being able to release is crucial.

Simple truth: NONE of that is possible before we know what we are releasing. Before we can speak our truth.

And before even that, comes seeing it, and accepting it.

I feel like there are billions of souls on the brink of their own truth right now. Moments from seeing and feeling the truest love. From acknowledging their own power, and breathing life into those first intense, terrifying but truly magical and empowering steps.

There are hands to hold you as you step. There are hearts to lift yours, when it’s hard. There are minds you can exchange with and ease your load and souls who are there to guide.

All it takes, is owning it.

Your truth.

Whatever it looks like. Whatever has gone before.

Tomorrow is a fresh, new, open to opportunity day. And with the right mindset and some tenacity, those first steps can be taken.

Those first steps HOME.

Taking your own life gently and firmly with both hands, filled with empathy and compassion for yourself, straightening your shoulders, breathing deep and accepting that you are NOT your errors. You are NOT your hurt. You are NOT your unhealed self, and most importantly, you are NOT here to live anyone else’s life but yours.

You CAN heal your wounds. You CAN learn to trust and love, both yourself, and others. And crucially, you CAN depend on yourself. You CAN do absolutely anything you choose to do, once you embrace your truth.

But most importantly, you CAN come HOME.

From my heart to your, Sweet Souls. With love and respect.

Trace

*This is an excerpt from the online course and book I am currently writing. It’s both a guide and a journey to and through healing. To where we are - (be)coming home – to ourselves.