Who am I

We are all searching for our so cold destiny, all day everyday we wake up working towards what we hope is where we were meant to be, until we wake up one day and find that we are not yet there.  That which we had thought was our destiny, a job, a relationship, was actually a pitstop, a restroom break before riding on the bumpy bus again on a foggy road with no road signs ahead... Its  a unique human thing, the feeling that we havent found ourselves, that there's unfound area of ourselves that promises healing that promises happiness that promises satisfaction in its purest authentic form. Its almost as if we all have this pre notion of what satisfaction is, or even what reaching your destiny is,  we act like we have a manual for this machinery and we just keep installing it wrong without the option of sending it back to the manufacturer.

Like you have, Ive BEEN searching for myself, a new me for the past 35 years. You would think that with all this practise I'm closer to my answer, my destiny, if you will, but I couldn't be further even if I tried. My life feels like a web of confusion guilt regret and pain, lots and lots of pain tangled up into a knotted ball that would take years and tears to unrevel. I've learned to love this ball. this tangled web of mine, Ive learnt to protect it and give it a home in my heart, in my life. I cant live without it now, it is not just a part of me IT IS ME. I identify myself with it, Ive embraced it. It is mine and mine to keep. 

I am realising that I use social media to protect this ball, but I now kind of want it to develop to crawl and maybe finally walk, right out of my life. The very first thing I did was to disconnect, so that this ball stops sucking the life out of me. I feel like it feeds off me via social media, I sometimes write and post things Im not particularly proud of, the ball makes me do it, its not me , you see it has a persona of its own. I simply gave life to it. I spent too much time protecting it, its now behaving like a spoilt brat of a child, embarrassing me in public in the full view of other disaproving parents, only difference is I cant spank it like you would a child, all I can do is cut it off, cut off its blood supply. How you ask? By keeping off social media for a while. I want to discover who I am outside of the public personas I have created through my ball, I am not saying I will win that I wont falter but i do  hope it changes everything, I hope it rediscoveres me, I hope it helps towards finding myself, opening new doors, unexplored paths and hopefully closer to my destiny

Weight wise you would be happy to know that though still in the upper 80s I have maintained my weight so far, I promised to never go back to 100s to the 90s but this time to go down further, I might find myself in the 70s soon, who knows, now that Im shifting my daily focus, it gives me a platform to focus on things I've neglected for too long. Things like loving myself FIRST not acting like I  do, to love ME completely and selfishly and unpologetically. 

What is growth?

As my birthday week passes on and I have gained another year in my badge of life, there are still parts of me that are waiting for that 'growth'. I'm not sure if I am just a young spirit that we always remain that way or is it my innate incapacity to allow growth that has left me in this position.

 I wonder if women who are over 32 actually feel grown and maybe it explains why a majority of my friends are a lot younger than I am. Funny enough it is only when I experience what they go through that's realise that growth might not be the number of years in existence on earth in as much as it's about physical experiences of life. I felt more growth in the past 2 years than any other time in my life, the experiences that sometimes made me angry and left me feeling like a little girl have actually grounded me into a certain woman....

In the ways that my heart is young and optimistic, accessible and open it has, as a Woman's does, acquired the necessary walls and carefully maintains the ones worth keeping. But in those walls, only a woman knows where the doors are and who is worth letting through. My gut, my instinct alerts like a woman.... it knows the difference between “right,” and “not right for me.” My heart, is no longer an empty room, with a "come one, come all" sign,  waiting to be filled with someone else’s stories, likes and dislikes that I'd hastily claim as my own in an attempt to keep them.

That heart vessel doesn't say "Unoccupied," waiting to be invaded like it had been before... It stays FULL and entertained while deliberately awaiting the arrival of one worth re-arranging "the things" for. As a result I am no longer as good in giving advise as I was before because keeping my thoughts into anyone's stories longer than my own has  been prohibited.


Unlike a Girl, I know that things take time. That nothing comes to full bloom in a day. I’ve relinquished the need to have all the answers, or to make you see things my way.  Unlike a Girl, I know what it feels like to try and fit a square peg into a round hole, but now, rather than attempting it, I see the pieces for what they are and let them be...

Unlike a Girl, I don’t wish to be lighter skinned, or taller. I don’t wish for my hair to be the way that hers are.  I don't even compare relationships.... I know that no one has it “better,” we each just have it “differently.” Unlike a Girl, I’m comfortable with transparency, even if you aren’t. That my words are only of value if they are genuine and without pretense.... that the interaction, relationships, contracts that say, or feel otherwise aren’t “mine....” and that’s okay.

Unlike a Girl, as a Woman I don’t look to be anyone else.... and the “exemplary examples” that I hold ideal, as Mentors I humbly acknowledge will and have made their own mistakes. That the only true guide you have is YOU. As a Woman, I find that power terrifyingly exhilarating....unlike a Girl, I’m prepared to harness, feed, listen to my own True North.

I’ve learned to identify closed ears and closed hearts. I've learned when to slow down, speed up, or just stop completely. As a Woman I’ve learned the power of graceful restraint, coming to know when what you ache to say is already spelled out, a woman learns to trust subtle knowingness. She learns that words are the smallest part of the whole, as fun as they are to play with.... play can be spared.

A Woman knows that despite everything, she will be alright. She knows the well of resilience and strength that resonates through her whole being, even when she can’t bear it...she can do anything.

As a woman I trust my ability to love selflessly and selfishly in equal measure, inward and outward.


While having grown as I say I have...I still need my Dad. I still want my Mom to like my outfits, guys to like how I look and hubby to think I'm hot. The parts about being a Girl worth keeping are there....they’re playful and raw, completely, softly discernable....

While ALL the years, the lessons, the introspection of a Woman exist, freely and proudly, I embody that which I've wanted to become..... and embrace that it's all still a process....

You are damaged goods

I just watched people walk out of the gym. They're walking exhaustion and they are every shape, size and color you'd find in a bag of halloween candy (okay, there are not any purple people yet).

Some are obviously strangers chatting, some are  with friends and loved ones. Some are alone. All of them are damaged, all of them a mixed bag of frustration, happiness, battle scars and optimism. I'd venture to guess each has seen their heart's hope challenged in numerous ways.

I'd venture to guess some are walking towards their next emotional boxing match.

Thing is, no one isn't damaged. Flat out, we're each struggling to find our place if we succeed at 'that' it simply means we've learned to except that the human condition is one of perpetual imperfection. We fear our own emotions, and we most certainly fear the vulnerability that each new person in our life represents. Sharing our lives with someone is our most courageous endeavor; never meant to be easy and never meant to anything more concrete than a commitment to the process. 

Everyone wants someone who's damaged. It's the ones who think they aren't you've got to look out for. Damaged, crazy, quirky, weird, unique; we're all just looking for the damage that shines in the light we see the world through.

What I'm saying might sound like a cliche, but...it's the imperfections that make a person interesting, loveable, and human. When you live hard, when you love, laugh, work, play, all so very, very hard, you're bound to bust a few bones, break a heart or two, and bear bruises, sometimes for much longer than we'd like.

But, that's LIFE. I, for one, wouldn't want it any other way. Especially because that healing process can be oh so sweet.

 I haven't been consistent in writing because I've been damaged, in so many different ways at many different levels. Each day I get better and though I thought this year was hard and harsh, things seem to be moving in a better direction.

Me? I helped fix me. Obviously the me that was broken and battered didn't have the capacity to do the mending. But the person I became, going through the fog and drudging through it at times became someone that showed the old (broken and battered) me that no, I can't be broken and no I will not allow someone outside of myself to have so much control. They don't deserve it. 

Daily questions and daily non-acceptance of my current state in the muck absolutely would have continued if I didn't have people. People that allowed me to just mope when I needed to (compassion) and brought me dancing anyways (distraction). Danced to the point that I felt free again. But only I could remove the shackles.

Yes we are damaged goods... And I bet we wouldn't have it any other way 😍

Inspired...

From this....






To this









l might not have ARRIVED where I wanna be, BUT I damn sure LEFT where I used to be...

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