Putting your wounds behind you. Embracing Pleasure.
I wish I could put all of my wounds behind me.
I wish that I could snap my fingers and magically teleport myself to a childhood that was full of carefree times.
Yet, this is not my story.
My pain had a purpose, but that does not mean that my trauma wins the narrative.
You see, there is a lovely branch of therapy called “Narrative Therapy”. This is concerned with people taking back the power to tell their own story.
I spent 26 years as a sad bitch. Now, I am moving towards my 27th year as a happy Witch.
I am telling my own fucking story.
I am done pining for the validation of men who do not deserve my time. I am done fitting myself inside a little cookie cutter box of what a “proper” lady should be like.
I AM BRAVE. AN UNAPOLOGETIC ARTIST. AN ADVOCATE. A STORYTELLER. A WILD ROSE.
I am a woman that wants to build a loving family with children (biological & adopted) — to scream at the top of my lungs for peace — to slow the fuck down and smell the flowers all around me. I am a woman that is taking ownership of her own happiness.
I realize that I have all of the love within me that I have been seeking. I realize that I had been starving my body to fit a beauty ideal — and all I want to do is eat — with no guilt. I worked in a fucking eating disorder center, yet could not even see my own body.
Pain almost stopped me from reaching Paris once — but I am a resilient Witch.
I write this on a plane to New York. It is 2:30am and I cannot sleep. Instead of wallowing in anxiety, I’m enjoying writing this — as my next stop is Paris. I am treating myself to a week in Paris.
I am going to drink until I’m dizzy with joy, eat many croissants (fuck my gluten allergy), and make love to all the paintings.
You see, we are truly the captains of our own fate.
Pick up the pen baby, and start writing your own story. You hold the power.
XO