Yesterday during my birthday dinner with some friends, I reflected on how happy I am. The past two years have been really difficult, not just because of the pandemic. My loved one was incarcerated, my mother was diagnosed with cancer, I found my spiritual mother deceased in her home, I lost some friendships, and I had a stalker, just to name a few of the events I encountered over the past two years.
I was tired and not okay, y’all.
Looking back on these years, there are a few other things that are also true.
I’m happier than I’ve been ever.
It’s called growth.
This year I committed to prioritizing myself even if it meant loosing some friends in the process. It meant saying no to some folks, and myself. It required being honest with myself and others about what I need in order to be healthy and whole in relationship. It meant being intentional about incorporating rest, play and fun into my life. It required leaning into my community of support.
As one season of my life comes to a close, I’ve also been thinking about the younger versions of myself. My “inner child”. It’s strange, but this year, I sat with my 8 year old self, my 15 year old self, and the woman I was in my early-mid 20s. I offered her some understanding, empathy, and compassion. I forgave what needed to be forgiven so that I could heal those wounded parts of myself. In the process, I learned how to gift myself self-compassion.
This new season of life holds endless possibilities, enchantment, laughter, buoyancy, and mystery. And I’m ready for another trip around the sun!