I’ve been watching you. Not in a weird, stalker kind of way, but in awe. I don’t know how you do it. I don’t know how you went through that, and still get up every day. Even on the days you stay in bed, there’s still a glimmer of hope in your eyes, a passionate fire left in you.
Nobody knows how deep you feel the pain, you haven’t let anyone in that far. I wish you would, I really wish you would speak to somebody. You do so much for everybody, but I know you need to be heard too. You deserve to be listened to. Your feelings are important, your experiences should be acknowledged without judgement. I don’t look at you with society-imposed labels and assumptions. I know I’m not the only one.
You walk with an air of confidence that wasn’t there before. You speak with more certainty. You think with more independence. You laugh more. You try new things. You live with a little more fight than you ever did, because you know what you have overcome in the past.
Only you know the truths you have owned in silence, without guidance or advice from others, without influence from the outside world. You’ve made your decisions and made peace with them, because you know you’ve done the best you could in that moment.
You used to strive for perfection, determined to fit into some kind of box that was never designed to contain you as you are. You made yourself smaller, faded into the background and followed all the rules to achieve a happiness that wasn’t created by you. You looked to others and silently mirrored them, eager to create an identity that was acceptable in all circles.
Then it happened.
Maybe it was the incident, the conversation, the person, the reminder, the unexpected prompt that caused you to let it all go. Maybe it was all of it or only some of it. Maybe it just having the opportunity to slow down and listen to yourself, so you could connect with the tapping of intuition and steer yourself in the direction of your vision. You acknowledged that it was there, the special something that makes you unique. The world interpreted it as ego and superiority, but you always knew you were different. You weren’t made like everybody else, nobody is. You never fit in, even when you tried it didn’t feel right. People sensed it and you knew it even before you admitted it. This “being different” was never about “being better”, but it is only now you’re accepting it.
You’re in a state of discomfort right now because everything feels like it is changing. You’re almost angry at yourself for getting comfortable with how things were. People are changing around you and it feels uneasy. Sometimes you’re not sure if you can trust your thoughts; you’re not always able to separate negative thoughts from intuition. And though you’ve tried to keep a positive outlook, there are times when self-doubt has crawled in and set up camp in your mind, and the eviction notice isn’t working.
I want you to know that it is okay to feel a little lost sometimes. We won’t always have the answers, we won’t always know what to do or what direction to take. I like to think there is purpose even in being lost, in being still enough to think. There’s a lesson to be found in being static, sometimes it’s just about letting go. Sometimes it’s more than that, but I guess we never really know for sure.
But what I do know, is that you’ve got a proven record for conquering hard times and this is no different. All sorts of difficult people, feelings and situations have crossed your path, and you’ve survived it all. You’ve faced confusion before. You’ve sifted through the sands of uncertainty and dug deep into your subconscious until you found who you were underneath it all. You trust yourself more than you know. Even on your hardest days, you’ve held onto hope. You made it through. You had faith in a brand new day, and had faith again and again.
In the midst of everything, you know who you are. You know what you want, or at least what you don’t want. You don’t hide the pain but you don’t define yourself by it. You’re not the same person you were just a few years ago. You won’t force yourself to fit in. You’ve seen too much to go back to who you were. You know who you are now, right now. You know where you are going. You have seen what you’ve done and are beginning to see what you can do.
I don’t know how you do it, I don’t know how you’ve done any of it and it doesn’t matter if I never find out. Because I am in awe of your journey, your commitment to self-discovery, your small gestures of self-acceptance and your exploration of self-love.
I see you, Queen. I’m just glad you finally see yourself.