A letter to you, and to myself.
To the girl i was,
There was a time i forgot how to be soft. I confused protection with silence. I thought strength meant swallowing it whole. Not using your voice because it can make others uncomfortable. Letting myself be the ground beneath someones feet, that’s how high i put them on a pedestal. Covering hurt and pain with deafening deflection, constantly changing my mental state to switch out the years of suppressed energy…finding anything i could cling onto to make me forget. Searching for a single thread of glimmer in my everyday life, but putting energy where it shouldn’t of been going. Sometimes bad decisions can lead you to the darkest places you’ll ever go. But i am learning that softness is not a weakness. That being delicate in a world designed to pull you apart is courageous. Sometimes, being soft can have a greater impact in the room. For me, and my anxiety, being soft is my safe line. I used to want to be the loudest in the room, but as i grow, i really do love sitting back and watching it unfold. It’s much more delicious that way.
Stepping into my femininity ~ and honouring ‘little me’ i once tucked away ~ changed everything. My outlook on life, love and relationships softened and deepened. Choosing a life with my husband has been the safest place i’ve ever known. It has truly saved me, it’s changed my entire perception on love. It taught me that a woman can be loved so deeply that the world feels safe again. That kind of love gives you the courage to search down deep and do the gritty shit no one is brave enough to do. So i left my hometown. I left it all behind, including the girl i once was. My fiance at the time held space for me to fall apart and begin again ~to face my shadows, question my patterns, and let every aching part spill out. I cried and cried my broken little heart out until one day there was just none left.
Healing isn’t linear, its a messy case of tears, pain and raw emotion. It asks you to let go of versions of yourself you once clung to, and walk straight into the unknown. But somewhere along the way, i began to realise that softness isn’t weakness ~ its a quiet kind of strength. And in choosing softness, i came home to myself.
I hope that as you move through these pages, you feel a sense of safety ~ enough to look at the things you’ve buried, the parts of you still trembling in the dark. I hope my words offer a mirror, or a balm. That you find the courage to meet yourself fully, and step into your divine feminine ~ not in perfection, but in truth. And if you’re still unsure of your purpose, take heart: it doesn’t arrive all at once. It’s a soft unfolding, and it shifts as we do. Somewhere in all that unraveling, i met a version of myself i had never met before ~ softer, slower, wiser. She didn’t ask to be perfect, just to be heard.
“i am no longer shrinking to be digestible. you can choke, respectfully.”
Always, in the glow of honey and moonlight.
xx Mon