When I run, words come to me. Admittedly, this only happens when I’ve already run a good 5 or 6 laps and am ‘in the zone’ as it is sometimes referred to. But when they come I know they are gifts from me to me.
Today, rather than words, images came to me. First. An image of a seed, breaking open.
I am coming into my own. Stepping into myself. Climbing out of those little girl-feet shoes that don’t fit anymore. They are too small, too tight, too restrictive.
I have faced my past, I have confronted my family. I have seen and felt the deep deep disappointment of the wall of silence that I am met with each time I tell.
It’s time now to nourish myself. From the places where the spring never runs dry. Time to look after me and go after what I deserve and want.
Sex has always been clouded by so much shame and badness for me and until two weeks ago I had only ever had sex with my ex-husband. But that has changed. I had a sexual encounter and felt empowered. I went after what my body craved and I was delighted by how it lit me up. It was my choice and I went after it.
But I want more than a sexual encounter. I deserve more. I want love, support, good company and conversation. I want it all. I am worthy of it.
This journey is exquisitely painful yet beautiful in all its facets.
I’ve had almost 30 sessions of therapy and I have 30 more to go. Almost half-way and I envision the woman I want to be at the end of all the sessions. A woman who feels a sense of belonging and acceptance, a woman who feels safe enough to be herself in this world where her beginnings were so traumatic. A woman who sees herself as others do.