The more I crack open deeply, the more parts of myself I find that I haven’t been giving love to. And the deeper I go the more I discover the depths of love I still have to give to the parts of myself I thought I had been loving wholly. It’s been a powerful journey
My kids have seen me laughing. My kids have seen me breaking down. My kids have seen me in raw, primal, unbound sadness where I didn’t control any of the sounds coming out of me. And I love that. Because what doesn’t seem like very long ago I was a woman who held it all
I have never had a desire to be anyone’s guru. I have never had a desire to be the next (Insert well known leaders name here) I have only ever had the desire to be the truest, fullest expression of myself however that looks in each and every moment. I deeply believe that no one
Blah blah fucking blah 🗣I’m better than you 🗣You don’t know as much as me 🗣I’m more spiritual than you 🗣I do the real work unlike these other fakes 🗣I can’t believe you act that way when you are supposed to be a role model I’m so over it! You know the sayings I love
I have come to realise the words best friends and bestie create a reaction in my body now that I had been trying to avoid. I have noticed I have stopped referring to friends as those words. They come with pain and a reminder of hurt for me. And after all, why do we as
I used to be referred to as a lady of leisure all the time. I used to laugh it off, but it would often be accompanied by feelings of guilt. Should I be enjoying living my life the way I am? Should I be happy that I get to do whatever I want, whenever I
Humans have massive savior complexes – myself included. Think about it – how often have you thought ‘I could have done more for them’ Or I haven’t done enough Or I’ve failed them Or… I could go on for days with these suggestions. I think the martyr complex, probably goes back to learning about Jesus
No matter what I challenge this man with he always steps up to it. I don’t know or respect another man more deeply than I do him. I married him for a reason. Not that I knew it back then. He willingly owns every part of himself even when his ego doesn’t want him to.
I’ve just now realized that the whole 9 months mum spent carrying me were probably spent numb and not wanting to connect just in case the same thing happened again. You see, my mum experienced 9 stillbirths and miscarriages before she had me. She had to grieve that many babies before I arrived. Womb trauma.
I can already feel my ego freaking out. But what about this, you will miss this? And singing – how will you not be able to sing? You are going to struggle and probably quit so why even start? I could write so many more of the lovely thoughts that have visited since I announced