A lot has changed since the first time I wrote on this platform. I tried to write for myself, but upon reflection, I see that I was initially writing to gain approval from an external source. Trying to be all poetic when in fact I love chaotic introspective writing. So this time around, I choose to write and seek validation solely from myself. I aim to make it a practice to seek validation only from within.
I am aware of my skills in writing . I am not great. Ask me to orate, and I will prove you wrong. I write to release thoughts and feelings that suffocate me. Thankfully, they are no longer deafening like in 2020, but more like silent waves crashing around my mind, trying their best to cloud my reasoning. But I have learned far better than to let that happen a second time. One thing you should know about me is that I never repeat the same mistake twice once I understand the lesson through my stubborn heart and mind.
Two weeks ago, I went through my first heartache. I noticed how my body, mind, soul, and heart revolted. The first three days, I experienced physical symptoms — no appetite, yet nauseous. I would wake each day in a trance, unaware that I was functioning normally on the outside. I used fake smiles as a façade to create an air of normalcy as people started offering their condolences and consoling hugs. It felt like I was grieving. In the days that followed, I reached out, wanting answers, which did more harm. Mistakes were made, and I have learned now to never force or chase. This week, I noticed one morning that I was aware of brushing my teeth, feeling the hot water on my skin, and the heaviness in my eyes. I was slowly but surely healing. There were signs.
I was told healing would take a lot of time. I am still healing as we speak. Reflection, both in retrospection and introspection, has helped a lot. I pushed myself to reach out to others, start conversations, and put myself out there, a hand reaching out for someone to hold as a saving grace. I found myself in the presence of many friends and supporters, encouraging me to become a stronger and more resilient version of myself. “Strength and courage,” they chant always.
I blamed myself. I thought I had a lot to work on within myself, believing the other person was perfect. I do have work to do on myself, but for myself, not to appease others. I realized that I lacked a sense of self-worth. I had taken myself away from a place of balance. I made myself small. I never spoke up, never spoke loudly. I am a wild child , my curly mane is a testament to that. But for seven odd months, Ms. Wild Child was subdued, hiding, afraid of not being accepted.
I was seeking validation externally. I forgot my power. I was told I wasn’t confrontational, but that is far from the truth. However, I did portray a softer version of myself. I gave too much, too fast, and too quickly. In moments when I wanted to ask for something, I did not. I accepted a lot, even when I was not okay with it. I gave away my power, handed it over on a platter, and no one else is to blame but myself. So desperate to receive love and frolick in romantic bliss, reality slipped through my fingers.
Despite the continuing grief and heartache, I see now that this was meant to happen, for me to learn, grow, and become a version of myself that never lowers her head just to be validated and accepted.
This is to reaffirm to myself and my sense of worth:
I know what I bring to the table as a partner, friend, and human. My love is abundant, wild, free, unafraid of giving and showing. I am calm, understanding, accepting, supportive, childish, carefree, and careful. I am devoted, charming, funny, talented (oh, how talented I am). I am home, and I am change. I am committed, emotionally available, intellectually curious, respectful, confrontational, wild, and simple. I am responsible, hardworking, creative, sensible, spiritual, and I take life and its consequences very, very seriously.
I am a lot. And I will only accept someone who is ready to sit with me at the same table.
I could have easily made this about them. But no, there were two of us, and I speak for myself. They did help me, even now. “Put yourself first above everything and everyone.” I could have chosen to focus on anger and resentment, but instead, I choose respect, love, and admiration.
I still continue to put on a fake smile as a façade. But recently, I have started to laugh loudly again, for myself, and at things that are not remotely funny. I have started to hope and to be aware that I will get my “spark” back. I have been wanting to have a vision for myself. I have put myself out there, being there for myself, all dressed up to look and feel good for myself. A little bump in the journey should never stunt growth.
For now, I see myself being there for myself, my family, and my friends. I have people to care for.
Love is a way of being. And I am a living being. It is a choice to show up for that love out of respect and to reaffirm to myself and to others who need it, “I am here, always.”
