Belonging

As I thumb through my 2017/2018 journals (yup, plural) a theme presented its self. I was searching for something to belong to. I was looking for anything that would take away the loneliness. You know “fill my cup”. The journal entries read as stories of my failed attempts to find a person, place, or thing that invoked feelings of worthiness. Screaming at me from these pages is my life long struggle. A struggle I want to move past. I finally see that I crave a belonging filled with purpose, a belonging to my self worth, a belonging to my choices. Rereading my words brought fear and shame, it made my heart heavy like the lead vest at the dentist office. So many rushed, confused choices made out of what was reading as desperation. (Ugg, truth can be so ugly). Not what I ever intended for myself.

I set aside my “ah ha” moment because I need to digest my findings. I need to shift my way of thinking. I have some really big work todo on myself.

In a Starbucks on on a Weekday morning I ran into a friend… Their recent life situation was painfully familiar to me. I got misty just thinking of the emotional torture that we were discussing. “How are you doing” promoted a candid snap shot of the loneliness my sweet friend was feeling. A loneliness that has burned my cookies for years. A loneliness I wouldn’t wish on any good intentioned person, ever. There we were bonding and belonging over a shared loneliness. My ah ha moment just kicked me in my soul.

OK universe, thank you for the push. Now it’s time to get to work:)

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