It is said that loving oneself is the easiest and the hardest of tasks there is. Most people equate it to selfishness but loving oneself is the most liberating feeling there is.
To me, it has been more of welcoming my defiant self back home over and over again until I am one with my light and shadow. After alignment, I must live in a balance of understanding the potential of my light while learning from my dark.
Only then can I embody my authentic self.
And only then can I unlock a more enlightened core of my blueprint.
The journey here has been full of highs and lows as expected. It had been one of battling a toxic dissociative mind game between the voices in my head on issues they never agreed on or accepted playing any role in until I formed a ritual of sitting with myself.
I first came to in a disturbingly dark trench and failed miserably at attempting to peer into the dark. I tapped on its walls and tried to see with my hands into the murkiness of my then unforgiving soul. My third eye couldn't interpret the language of loving myself out of the dark so I crawled blindly.
The weight of hoarded thoughts from strange tongues overthrew my self-esteem and validation had to become a purifying ritual as I often craved to be reminded of what I already knew deep down.
What I am started being about people's moods and their limited perspectives of me. My worth was correlated with whatever whomever my attention-seeking mask touched thought. I brought my walls down while I got into self-sabotage which in return helped blur my boundaries.
Unsolicited opinions about who I am or what is expected of me hovered over my open skies for a while then decided to freefall into the fertile bits of my overthinking mind like rain.
And the urge to pick me up and rebuild had matched into the horizon with a sunset that held abundant promises at sunrise. I struggled to differentiate my needs to people around me and the moon had hidden his reassuring face from mine.
It took the light that never surrendered to reignite my psyche and drag me out of there. My reflection left enough memories of my clueless empath sacrificing her warmth to undeserving souls whilst evaluating whether I deserve to forgive myself.
Imagine that.
The walk of shame came with shedding some versions of myself that I thought I was. It then rudely introduced me to evolving and thriving in my rebirthed renditions. To become and accept who I am destined to be.
It has also seen me learn how to measure my growth by who I am and my capabilities if not impediments. As we might all be flowers but we bloom in different seasons and vibrate in diverse frequencies.
wambuku w.
