Changing. Finding. Creating. Expressing. Authenticity. Peace.
These are words I am holding near to me as the new year sets sail.
I don’t subscribe to the ‘new year, new me’ proclamations. There is nothing new to be found in me. I am moving more toward unearthing, discovering, becoming.
The last few years have been a mash up of trying too hard, trying too little, over-consumption, impulsivity, lacking, confusion.. The list goes on.
The life I envisioned for myself at 32 looks nothing close to the one I am living. And I don’t mean that in a glorified expectations kind of way. There was so much I wanted to be and experience by now, and I have fallen short of the mark.
But it’s never too late.
The other night I was struck by this feeling of wanting to grow into myself, truly be at peace in my own skin and in the world around me. You see, I have never felt like home to me. Instead I went in search of it in the wrong people, the wrong jobs, and the wrong emotions.
I don’t want to be at war with myself any longer.
I want to be more than this body, this skin, my disorder, my job, my past. I want to come home to myself, feel at peace with myself, be better to those around me, and be better in this world.
And so I have declared it, this is the Year of Me.