You are loved

Dear me back

Dear me

It has been so long, that I don't know where to start. But if I could start somewhere, I would start by saying thank you for writing to me. It means that you have started to forgive me, for forgetting you. 

For not taking the time for us anymore. Because of what I thought was life. The life I thought I wanted. 

I am so ashamed to tell you that I haven't treated us very well. But don't worry, a lot has changed since we last spoke. I have made some life-changing decisions, and I think this is going to make sure that we are us again. 

All those things you asked me about? I want all of them. I want all of them so badly, that if I think about it too much, I am sure our heart will explode in our chest. 

A lot has happened in the past 4 years...maybe longer...but actually most has happened in the past 10 months or so. I am sure I will remember it for the rest of my life. So I am sorry for not writing to you sooner, but since April last year, my life has changed completely. 

Through months of therapy, and trying to understand...I realised, I was not me anymore. I was a product of someone else's wishes. I don't think I had any identity. I know that I wasn't myself. 

In finding this out, through circumstances, and through the courage of those close to me, to question where I was...I have decided that life needs to change, in order for me to come back. And also in order for me to be true to myself. 

And my true self is someone surrounded by love, truth, trust, loyalty and above all integrity. And don't forget passion, respect and the essence of life, wonder. Undying, endless wonder. 

I think I am back now, although there are some days, which are harder than others. I knew at the time that the journey to find myself again, would be hard. But I didn't know how hard it really would be. 

Have you ever woken up in the morning with your jaw so tightly clenched, that you have given yourself a headache? Or woken up feeling fine, but in the space of a few seconds, felt like you have had a bucket of cold anxiety poured down your throat? It makes your legs heavy and it crushes your heart like a hand would crush a butterfly. Carelessly and without compassion. 

You are tested every second and you have moments of blind doubt and fear. But then you also have moments of validation, pure understanding that your difficult choices have also been the right choices. 

I have calm days and I have days when it feels as though I have been blanketed in ice. Cold, chilling, nerve-bending ice. 

I have days of hatred, rejection and devastating sadness. But as I write to you, I also have many more days of knowing that the choices I have made, are THE choices which define the happiness waiting for me in my future. 

I define my path and decide where my life travels. I know now that I have more control than I ever knew. But it is a control over my life which I respect. 

I also know that I have opportunities all around me. And I am surrounded by people who believe in me. People who want to see me grow. People who want to help me grow. People that have taken chances on me. Who trust in me. People who see me for who I am. People who know what I can become. 

I am excited now, even though I still have some challenges ahead. But I know now that they will come and go, and each of them will make me stronger. 

And I am sorry for all of this, but equally, I know time heals all hurts. 

My hurts are real to me, but so are my dreams and my goals. 

And I don't know what happens next, but I do know, I can do this. I always could face challenges. I just needed to be reminded of that. 

I am back again. And this time, I am back for good. 

Because I choose it. 

I am glad I decided to write to you now. I know it was time for me to. 

With all my love

Me 

Steve says

Dear me

Dear me

How are you? It's been a while since you have sat still and had a chat with me. Do you know how much I miss that? How I miss knowing what you are thinking?

What have you been up to? Are you working hard? Playing hard? Living your life to the fullest?

I hope so! That might explain why you don't have time for us anymore. You know, those lazy weekend days when you take time for us to just be quiet. To sit still and to think. And to plan our future, and the things we want to achieve. The breezy Sundays with the sun on our face, and the smell of the ocean, as we take photos of the little beautiful things that have been left for us to wonder at. Like sand, and stones, and waves, and creatures of the earth.

What happened to the days when we would just jump in the car and drive somewhere special. Somewhere dusty and rustic. Somewhere lush and brimming with the fruits of the earth. Somewhere less visited and more untouched than anywhere else.

What happened about our dreams to visit places on earth that we have always wanted to see? Like the Camino di Santiago, Croatia, Copenhagen, Machu Picchu? Do you ever think about going back to Cuba, and taking more photos of the rambling houses and smoky old cars. And the craggy-faced locals who know only a simple life?

Or what about visiting Italy again and this time trying more of the foods, and smelling the earth more, and speaking the language more, and tasting the wine more. Worrying less about the travelling, and more about the adventuring.

Are you going to wait for it all to pass you by? Or are you going to do something about it?

Do something about discovering us again. Our soul. Our passion for love, and life and for laughter.

Are you going to remember who you are? Or let someone else do that for you?

Are you going to stand up? Or just sit down and say that you are done?

I don't remember signing up for halfway. For try less. For worry more.  I never planned on give up or the 'whatever' of life. I am here to face life. Challenge it. Beat it when it hurts me. Embrace it when it rewards me.

Please don't tell me that you have forgotten me. I couldn't handle that.

Please tell me that you cherish me. That you cherish us.

That you want to feel those things again. That you want your energy to sizzle through your body and out through your finger tips. I miss that you.

Are you coming back?

Love
Me

This was shared with me recently...and it must be shared on...it just must...
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Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you’ll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you’ll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet room.”

~ Cheryl Strayed
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 - Dear Sugar

It’s true. Not everything will be okay.

This is not okay. It’s the deepest ache. It’s a solid core of loss layered on top of loss. I know it is. But there you are in that small, quiet room, and although it — all of it — may not be okay — you will.

You will.

I feel this deep and true and right in the marrow of my bones. You will be okay and more than okay and so much more than you could possibly know. There will be love. The kind of love that changes everything. And maybe more heartache. And so much laughter and breathless kisses and the hard fall of tears. There is so much more ahead. And it is so very good. I promise. I know this.

I hope that I get to see you love what you are. To know yourself as giftand worth and truth. That you see what a huge thing it is to have the courage to break your own heart.

That you have chosen wholeness — even when it has shattered you. And that you will one day see that you can be whole and broken in the exact same spaces, that they nestle side by side — and that this is the way of things. Not your punishment for wrongdoing, or for not trying hard enough — but just the way of things.

That you can stand and look at yourself in a mirror and see your goodness right there, see the worth of what you bring on the surface of your skin, just like I do. That you trust there is brilliance to come. That you own what is yours to own, both the bad and the good. That you do not insist on owning it all. It was never all yours to hold. Release to the wind, love. Let it be carried away on the breeze. It does not serve you now.

I know you, and your darkness and your shadow and all the things for which you practice self-flagellation. And I still see you as good, and true and strong and powerful and exquisitely present in this world. You have not chosen the easy way. Life has not granted you a gentle path. Not even close.

But you have followed your own trail, again and again and again. You have done what you needed to move forward. You have placed one foot in front of the other and kept on going – even when that was the most difficult thing to do.

You have defined your space and your territory. You have said ‘This is mine. You may not enter now.’ And you meant it. And you stood by it, even when it was impossibly hard. And all of this, my friend, is no small thing. In fact, these are all very large things. Infinite and powerful and true.

The voices in your head that say otherwise? These are born not from truth but from the stories others have created for you. These stories do not have to be yours. Even if they once were, you need not accept them any longer. Give them back. Every last one. You’ll write a new story now, on a blank page, with a new pen and in your own incomparable voice.
I wish for you so very much. Seaside wishes and spin the bottle daydreams. Lucky pennies and shooting stars. A safe place to fall and a high place to leap from into the deepest pool of the clearest water. That you shed the shackles of past and grief and loss and betrayal. I hope you are possessiveness of your own wilderness. That you stake your claim and encircle your space with charm and enchantment and only grant entrance to those who bring you fully alive.

I wish for you space to cultivate a relationship with your own divinity. No external god, but the divine that lives within your own stubbornly pulsing heart. I wish you the energy and emotion of the greatest love affair, given as a gift to yourself. That you come home to the woman or man you are and the woman or man you are becoming.
And I hope you find what it is to love another in your mother tongue, a love that requires no translation and only delivers the ease of being fully known and fully seen. A love that brings you alive, that carries you home.

No mistake, this is the phoenix fire part. The burning down to ashes part. The preparing to rise again. This is a space without anchor, without moorings. Even the north star may be obscured by clouds. But your compass lies within. Your soul knows your truth north. Can find it without map or directions. You need only trust yourself enough to listen to the whispers of your valiant soul.

Lay your head in my lap, love. Tell me your stories. The ones that have formed you into the gift that you are. Now take a breath and let it go. Let it all go. Let the sea breeze carry it away. Let your tears fall. You will be held now. You will be carried. You can stop running. You can cease the endless motion and constant struggle. You can rest now. You are safe.

And maybe, just maybe, now you can be still.

Women on Wednesdays at 15h30

I heard the most tragic thing on the radio this morning...at 15h30 on Wednesdays, is when women look their oldest! 

I think at 15h29 I might go hide in the loo for 11 minutes and wait for the age to pass...

This calls for a repeat of this quote...

But then, they also say that as women get older, they get more beautiful...

Nuff said