You are perfectly imperfect and powerful byeond measure.
Steve Maraboli
For much of my life, I have felt broken. By things that have happened to me. By things other people have done and said to me. By my reactions. I have been shattered into a million pieces and haven’t known how to kee going.
I’ve felt lost, and alone, and afraid.
For so long I have felt like the remains of a person, the dust of what once was real. I’ve longed for someone to come in to “fix” me, to tell me what to do to make myself whole again. For a Prince Charming or a Fairy Godmother to magic everything okay again.
This sense of brokenness has meant I gave away my power, gave it into the hands of people who didn’t deserve to have it. Given my power to them to tell me who I am, who I should be, how I should be fixed, what I should do to be ‘perfect’.
From boyfriends to a husband, family to friends, I put my power in someone else’s hands. I could never quite match up to their expectations, constantly breaking off pieces of myself to try and fit into their mold. Trying to do all the things they told me I had to do to be better.
As I’ve fought this year to rebuild my life, to put myself back together, I had voices telling me what was ‘wrong’ with me… I was x, y, and z. If I did this I would be ok. I had to stop doing this or else I’d stay broken. Should, must, have to… so many reasons why I was broken that it backed up my inner voice that there was something inherently wrong with me.
Even when I could take no more, and fought back, followed my own instincts and did what I knew was best for me, that inner voice still said: “what if they were right?” “What makes you think you know better?”
Slowly, that voice is lessening, learning that I am not broken. No one is broken. I do not need fixing for there is nothing wrong with me how I am right now.
The only voice that matters is my own. Standing up for myself, doing things my own way, even if that costs me friendships. Listening to my inner voice instead of seeking direction from other people. Understanding that those who really care for me will support me on MY path, even if it isn’t the one they think is ‘best’.
I was never broken. I may have been hurt, I may have shrunk, I may have made bad decisions along the way, but I never broke, because no matter what, each and every day I got up and lived. Even if living that day meant simply breathing. No matter how lost I am, I always find the path in the end.
Society tells us that when we are depressed or anxious or struggling with mental illness we are ‘broken’. That we need fixing, we need labeling, we need to do what others think is best for us to be whole.
Instead what we need is love and understanding. Acceptance that we are not all the same, that one person’s views aren’t always right for another. That are flaws are usually a result of trauma NOT a sign of something inherently wrong with us.
Now I’m being gentle with myself. Searching for the answers inside myself instead of in other people. Walking away from relationships that aren’t healthy for me, putting myself first enough remove people from my life if they make me feel guilty or broken or ‘wrong’.
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