A friend said to me once, one day I hope this no longer defines you.
My immediate reaction was, how can it not? How could there ever come a day when this is not everything in my life? When this is not the entirety of who I am?
I have thought on this long and hard over these last months.
And slowly, but surely, I am beginning to see a me unfolding that exists not separate and apart from this, but is whole after it.
My new life is taking form.
I am finding my own joy again, my own little pieces of happiness.
I laugh and smile, sometimes uncontrollably. Often innappropriately.
I have new dreams, new goals, new plans. Not yet fully formed, but they are there, taking shape one step at a time.
I am reclaiming my house, my closets, my bookshelves. Filling these spaces with the things I love rather than the things that make my heart ache.
I am organizing and decluttering, simplifying my life the way I need to.
I am surrounding myself with good people - friends and family who help me along and give me strength rather than suffocate or harm me.
I am reforming my beliefs and my faith in a way that is stronger and richer than I ever imagined possible. My God is my lifeline.
I have found a way to let love back into my heart and into my life. It is stronger than the fear.
I am letting go of the things of the past. I still hold them close to me, cherish and treasure them, but I have begun the arduous task of leaving them where they should be.
I am retraining my eyes to look forward instead of backwards.
I am redirecting my footsteps to move ahead instead of taking me running further behind.
I am gently pulling my heart forward so it beats again with purpose and passion instead of grief and suffering.
Each day has begun to hold promise instead of feeling like a prison sentence.
I have hope.