Category : Diary/Journal
Sub Category : N/A
For so long I sought other people who could house me because I didn't know how to be a home to myself.
First in the body of my mother, then as her only daughter.
Friendships formed on bonds of "we need each other". Our identities intermingled. The physical separation from friends - high school to college - equals to a year of feeling lost.
"Who am I without my friends?"
Girlfriends to boyfriends, none of us homes to ourselves. We used each other to get what we didn't know how to give ourselves.
"I need you."
"I need you to be this or that."
"Your shortcomings are my shortcomings."
"Your successes, my successes."
This symbiotic relationship.... sometimes mutual, sometimes parasitic.
I was never a home to myself.
Alone felt like non-existence.
Rejection felt like death.
"I need you" becomes "I need someone".
this never ending searching.
But when I finally began to explore my many parts, the little girl I'd tossed aside, I began to learn to be a home to myself.
I saw myself in the mirror, as if for the first time.
I told the eyes looking back,
"I love you."
"I'm here with you."
"You'll be okay."
I learned to comfort myself.
I began to explore the dark continent of my body.
The shame that society teaches, I slowly unlearned it.
So much numbness, so much sadness.
Slowly, slowly, I released it.
I turned the lights back on.
I removed the cobwebs.
I polished the silver.
I began to make a map.
I wanted to be the safest place in the world to myself, to trust in myself enough to break free. Just like a caterpillar turns into a butterfly, sure of her wings to take her high in the sky, that's the transformation that has happened to me.