You're the hardest person on yourself

I read this quote not too long ago that said, " Take the pressure off yourself. You're here right now. Right? This is just what's happening. Acknowledge where your resistance is, draw a bath, pour yourself a glass of wine, listen to music that puts you in a trance. You're the hardest person on yourself, so give yourself a break. Alright. You're doing the best you can, even when and if you think you can do better.... Just remember."

I then proceeded to journal these words, "Perfectionism is a joy killer."

Isn't it? Perfectionism is this guy that gets invited to all the parties but always sucks the fun right out of it. He steals our medals, he takes our prizes, the ones we have worked so hard for. He throws them into our face and says, "this isn't good enough. You are not good enough."

Even though this guy is a bully and no one likes him, we still invite him into our lives. I mean, think about it. WE. INVITE. HIM.

He doesn't just show up uninvited, he always has an invitation. We invite him to tare down all we've built, to look at our work and say "it's not enough".

I was biking with my close friend a few weeks ago. She knows everything I've been dealing with and struggling with and she asked me how things were going. I then spilled all the things I'm working on and how they are still a work in progress blah, blah, blah. After I finished with my long dialogue of my life (they are always long, I'm a woman who uses many words and details). Also, this is how I identify my true friends, they listen to all the details and when I finish, they say the very simple thing to summarize and validate what I just said. She very confidently and sweetly said, "Emily, it sounds to me like you're doing it. You're living that balance you're working for."

MIND. BLOWN.

I had been so consumed about things that I still wanted to do and accomplish that I hadn't taken a moment to recognize the distance I have come. I hadn't allowed myself to celebrate the change that has taken place. "Oh my God, I'm doing it. She's right, I'm doing it."

It's kind of like walking into a yoga class, after going consistently for a month and realizing that your
muscles aren't shaking as bad anymore, that you can hold a pose longer without falling. Waking up and realizing that you are actually doing yoga. That if someone saw you they would actually think you knew what you were doing.

It's so easy to get caught up in that idea of perfect that we miss all the little prizes, the best prizes, the things in this life that really make it worth while.

So please, whatever you're struggling with, whatever you are working on. Stop. Take a moment and give yourself a pat on the back. If you're waking up every week finding a way to implement that thing you want out of life, you're doing it. Recognize it. Love it. Drink in the moment. Don't invite perfectionism in to steal it. It was never meant for him.

Dancing

It’s coming, it’s falling swiftly from the sky.

Such grace, such elegance in it’s swift moment, in it’s swift life.

I watch in amazement, I watch it keep falling and falling.

Something draws me near, something calls me to it.

Innocence radiates in its presence.

It speak newness, it whispers peace.

I long to dance in it, my heart longs to be washed by it.

Everything in me tells me to get up, everything in me quenches to inhale it’s richness.

Instead I lay, watching it fall.

Only left dreaming of it’s mystery through a glass wall.

One day I’ll dance, one day I’ll go.

I’ll drink in the innocence, I’ll take in it’s glow.

I won’t care about the eyes, I won’t care about the minds.

I’ll just dance with the love that is falling from the sky.

What do you want? What do YOU want?!

Today I was watching The Notebook. It got to the part where Allie is about to go confront Lawn and she gets into a fight with Noah. Noah looks at her and repeatedly asks her, "What do you want? What do YOU want!?"

Allie just continues to stare at him, teary eyed, and no response.

Isn't that the typical scene for most women? A man might look at you and with a voice that sounds like it could carry you for miles, for there is that much strength in it. His sea glass eyes staring at you in a way that penetrates your very soul and he asks you, "what do you want?".

And we just stand there. Stand there, praying that the eyes who are searching our very soul can find the answer. Praying that the answer will come flying out of our mouth. Praying the jewels of what we want will begin to swiftly flow from our mouth, without hesitation, and with the confidence of a thousand soldiers.

But they usually don't. Our response if usually like Allie's, we avoid the question.

A few months ago, I found myself in a situation where I needed to express my needs. I was feeling a bit uncomfortable about something and needed clarity, along with feeling like I needed to express what I needed in the situation.

I called a friend of mine and was telling her about the situation. As we were discussing the situation I told her, " I just want to be sure my insecurities are not the ones driving these needs I'm feeling."

The conversation never took place and I'm so glad it didn't. Ever since I realized that I needed to identify my needs, all I've been able to say over and over again to myself is, "Girl, what do you want? What do YOU want?!"

I've been asking myself this for months. MONTHS. Trying to figure out what. I. want.

Yesterday, I was walking through the grocery store. I was looking for Parmesan cheese and garlic cloves when it hit me. It hit me in the soup aisle out of all places..... I want to be happy.

Just like that, right beside the chicken broth.

 I WANT TO BE HAPPY.

Don't we all? Don't we all just want to be happy?

I then realized that my journey to discover happiness. My race to find it, hold it, and keep it for good has been a self destructive path. For I have been looking for it through other things and other people.

If I had had that conversation, if I had expressed my needs at the time, my original concern would have been accurate. I would have been feed an insecurity that needs to be starved. I would have been asking someone to do something, to keep feeding my insecurity, and they would constantly had to do what I asked. As soon as they stopped, my anxiety would be back, my discomfort would come back.

I can't feed my happiness through other people, I can't put someone in that place. They will never fulfill it because they were never made to do that.

I have to do it myself. I have to dive into this heart of mine and find happiness within myself. It's there. It's always been there.

The hardest part is learning to be patient. Learning to know what's gold and what's junk inside this heart of mine. Rid of the junk, keep the good.

It's a process. A long process. But I know it will be worth it. It will be worth it for the day when those sea glass eyes of yours look into my heart, when that voice of yours comes barreling over me, sweeping me off my feet, making me weak in the knees. The words coming out will be truth and it won't feed my insecurity. It won't be fuel for me to sustain my self confidence or self esteem. It will be love and I will see it, and most importantly of all, I will believe it.

Breaking.

This morning I had a friend, whom I love dearly, text me. She said something along the lines of saying she was on the verge of falling apart, she just couldn't keep it together, and asked that I pray for her.

I immediately started praying and then went back to a few nights before, when I found myself on the floor again. Teary eyed and limp muscles.

I was breaking again, but this time I asked for it. I knew I needed it. I felt the pain rise in my chest again, I felt it come to the surface but nothing was coming out.

No tears. No screams. Nothing.

I am here to tell you, what's worse than having pain rise to the surface is not being able to let it out.

So I pulled out my journal and began to write about how frustrated I was with this feeling and not being able to express it.

I finally broke. Maybe it was my prayers and the begging and pleading that came with them, but I broke and it felt so good.

It felt so good to cry to scream, to have snot running out of my nose (not something very many people confess everyday, right?) to have mascara running down my face.

I fell to the floor, as the hard grieving took place.

If I have learned anything about myself recently is that when I love, I love hard. Therefore, the grieving is going to be just as intense, just as hard.

As everything drained out of me, it was there in the floor that I felt lighter. I was able to get the nasty, the yuck right out of me, and I felt so much lighter. Light enough to get off the floor, puffy eyed and all.

So when my friend texted me this morning, this is what I said to her, "Oh love, as soon as I saw the text I started [praying]. If you need to, cancel your plans for the morning or afternoon. Go into a room, shut the door and just break love, just allow everything in you to fall apart. Lay in the floor, cry. Sometimes we need to break to straighten up, to reset. Don't be a afraid of it, maybe it's what you need right now. Don't worry, pain isn't always a bad thing."

Pain isn't always a bad thing........ Breaking isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes it's just the thing you need to reset and continue to grow to your fullest strength.

To anyone who reads this, I really hope you come to find no shame in breaking. It's a hard lesson to learn and I'm fighting to believe it everyday, but I know in my heart it's what we need. We need to be willing to break, to hurt.

Call a friend, text a friend, pray, read scripture, read poetry, have Bright Eyes blaring as loud as your stereo will allow the deepness of that mans brokenness to go. I know it's hard. I know it hurts, but it's so good. It's good.

Even though I could still feel the dull pounding of the pain and the empty cavern that once held it become more hollow, I couldn't have felt more relieved.

I felt alive. 100% percent alive. And so much lighter.

Vulnerability.

I recently read a blog by Hannah Brencher. This blog, it wasn't like anything else I have ever read. It broke me. It literally broke me into pieces.

I wrote her about my experience, telling about what it did to me. I've read my email to a few close friends and all of them have encouraged me to share this, to share this with you.

This email is a very vulnerable email. It's real and it came from a very deep, dark, real part of me. If certain words offend you, don't read it. I won't apologize for anything I've had to say in it but I will quote something Maya Angelou said. She said, "I have to know that the brute, the bigot and the batterer are children of God and I'm supposed to treat them accordingly. It's hard, and I blow it all the time."

People hurt us and it's important to find a way to love them, forgive them, and let them go. But, it's also important to express the pain that was caused.

So here's my pain. I'm wearing it right on my sleeve, because that's who I am.

"I just picked myself off the floor.

Literally.

I've been working part time with this organization that offers free career counseling at the local community library. I was sitting in the room I normally sit in, reading through some of your old blogs (since no one had contacted me to see me). I sit and read or look through facebook, just incase anyone see's the ad and decides to drop in without contacting me first.

I come across your blog, "Hi, My name is Guard Your Heart. Wanna Date?"

I begin to read your words. Your vulnerability. Your ability to lay out what you have done before the world. Your ability to lay the hurt and to articulate the hurt so beautifully.

As I read, I begin to feel my chest tighten. I begin to become aware of every smell, every person, and millisecond of that very moment.

No one's watching me. No one is looking for me, but I look around as if someone is staring at me. As if two, four, six pairs of eyes are on me in this very moment.

I get to the last part, where you write, 'Guarding your heart, it sounds like languages gone extinct from unuse until God speaks. Until Hesays something to blow your little face off:
I want you to know, need  you to know, that your heart is big & beautiful thing–far more precious than you will ever understand. Don’t even try to fathom the weight of it. Just know this– I cannot stand to see it thrown, tousled, trapped in the hands of a Someone who was never made to hold it.

Heed the whisper that I am planting in your spirit: Every. Bit. Of. You. Is. Precious. Cargo. Your heart, your dreams, your hurts, your pains– they never belonged buried in the hands of a Someone who doesn’t fully understand you. They never belonged buried in the hands of a Someone who doesn’t fully understand what it took to make you.'

Well dear, that's exactly what happened in that moment, my little face got blown off. My not so little heart exploded out of my chest and oxygen came flooding into the wounds. Every. Single. Wound. In. My. Chest.

I've written you before, telling you, in passing that I had recently gotten out of a unhealthy relationship.

But if I were to dissect the word "unhealthy", if I were to define it, it would say: I cut off a relationship with a guy who had been emotionally manipulating me for 8 years. I finally broke the tie. But it wasn't until after I broke the tie, finally said I was done that I realized he had been manipulating my emotions. That he had been using me as a ego boost for years, even when he was dating other girls. EVEN WHEN HE HAD OTHERS GIRLFRIENDS HE WAS TEXTING ME TELLING ME HOW HE WISHED THINGS WOULD HAVE WORKED FOR US. TELLING ME HOW HE REALLY WANTED THE RELATIONSHIP AND THAT I WAS THE ONE WHO PREVENTED IT FROM HAPPENING. FUCKING TELLING ME THAT HE STILL SAW A FUTURE ONCE HE GOT HIMSELF TOGETHER.

The worst part is that through all this I became close to his family. They became like my family. They loved me and cared for me.

This isn't the first time I've tried cutting him out. I've done it before. But what I never did before, I never cut off communication with his family. Until now. This time, I broke their hearts. I hurt them, because I couldn't keep hurting myself in this situation.

I couldn't live any longer thinking that I was the problem, thinking I wasn't good enough, fun enough, beautiful enough. I. Just. Couldn't. Do. It. Anymore.

After I read that last paragraph, I felt the bleeding, the bleeding of my heart coming up to the surface. I couldn't bleed all over that library table. I couldn't sit there and bleed in front of people I've never met, never known, will possibly never know.

I grabbed my stuff and I walked out to my car. Got in. Drove as fast as I could home (passing his neighborhood).

I got home. Came into my room. Turned off all the lights. Covered my window to make the room darker. Got into my bed and broke and bled. I then fell into the floor, crying out to God. Begging him. Begging him that it wasn't true. Begging him to tell me that I hadn't been manipulated by someone for years. Pleading for him to come down and tell me that I hadn't shown my heart, shared my secrets with a man who will do nothing but carry them, carry them for the rest of his life.

My heart kept bleeding. Bleeding in grievance for 8 years. 8 years of believing someone just needed time, space, and patience. That in time, these things would help him to see me, to love me, to care for me.

The thing is. The sad thing is that he knew me all along. He knew me from the moment he met me and he learned really quickly what bate it took to keep me. He knew my weaknesses and used them to fill his own bones. To fill his own ego.

I'm off the floor. I know I deserve better than that. I deserve so much more than that and I'm willing to do whatever it takes. To make whatever sacrifices I need to make to never feel that way again. To instead, believe the words of my Father, my God, who tells me I'm beautiful. He looks at me the way an artist looks at his painting and smiles. Smiles with pure love and satisfaction that He did good. He did good in what he made.

Thank you for your ear. Thank you for your heart.

You will most likely receive a million thank you's from me as long as you keep writing :-)

Emily Walters"

Summer Nights

“You cannot write from the pit inside of you that wants to please others—you cannot create from that pit either.”- Liz Gilbert

I love everything about summer nights.

I love how you can still feel the lingering rays of heat left behind from the sun earlier in the day.

I love sitting on the porch, breathing in the night air, not feeling too cold or too warm, but just right.

Summer nights are adventures for me. It always brings something. It might bring a deep thought, a good laugh, or a gut wrenching conversation. I just never know and that’s what I love about it.

I’ve been so tired lately.

Maybe it’s the backlash of the last month and a half.

Maybe it’s the backlash of having been working 4 jobs the last month.

Maybe it’s the consequence of not taking care of myself well.

Whatever the reason, it’s a strange place and a strange season for me.

I’m typically like the energizer bunny. I just go go, go, go. But the thing is, after going, going, going, I crash, and I crash HARD.

I’ve had to learn to take better care of myself and not put myself on the back burner so much. Just like I’ve said multiple times, in multiple post, it’s just as important to love yourself as it is to love others.

To wake up to the reality that you don’t know if you love who you are or know who you are is a harsh reality. Yet, if I hadn’t awakened to it, I’d still would have been going down the self destructive path I had laid out for myself. I’m grateful for my awakening. I’m grateful to be on this journey.

As I go along, I’ve had to learn how to rebuild with the pieces I have inside of me. I’m coming to learn that I had been working really hard and searching really hard to find, what I thought, was my missing pieces. When in reality, I’ve had everything I’ve needed all along.

EVERY PIECE HAS BEEN SITTING HERE, INSIDE OF ME. Just waiting…… waiting to be seen….. waiting to be used.

I feel we have been programmed to constantly look. Constantly work and find the ‘thing’ you need the most, the ‘thing’ that will bring you all the happiness and joy you have been wanting your whole life. But this is a LIE. A lie that I have believed for far too long.

It’s here. It’s right here, wherever you are standing. Just stop. Stop right where you are. Turn off the music. Turn off the noise. It will come, it will show itself. It might feel uncomfortable. In fact, it will probably feel extremely uncomfortable, but don’t stop it. Don’t stop the discomfort, it’s all apart of the process, it’s all apart of the discovery.

Soon enough, if you sit with the discomfort long enough, the fog will clear, and you will see. You will see and find that missing piece and feel silly for thinking it could have been found anywhere else.