I have so much inside me that just wants to come spilling out. I’ve learnt keeping things bottled up inside just causes more pain. Often it can become toxic. Sometimes, sometimes it kills you. I think literally dying is awful of course but the death I’m talking about, in my opinion is worse. The death of your soul. Every day that we live a lie. Every day that we just go through the motions, and suppress what’s hidden underneath the layers of every one else’s perception of us. We die a little inside. We torture ourselves and blame everything and everyone but ourselves. Sadly most of us can plead ignorance. It hurts more for those that know. You know there must be more. You know there is. You know you don’t want this but do you know what you do want. Do you even know who you really are. I didn’t. I thought I did. I thought I was doing it right, this living thing. Then why did I always feel so out of place. Why was I continuously waiting for my turn to come and that next thing to happen. What the hell was I chasing. What was I searching for. I was searching for me.
Not this person you see. Although this woman is an entirely different version of the me I was just a year ago. That’s not even me though. There’s so much more. So much depth and dimension to this being, I can’t even wrap my head around all of it yet. I’m so in love with who she is becoming though. Well rather who she is unbecoming. It’s only taken me my whole life to get here. This is where it starts getting interesting.

Falling inlove with me