Healing

Give Yourself Grace

How can we set ourselves free?

I had a conversation with a friend recently who asked me this question. At first I thought, how can I even answer this when I’m not truly free myself? The question I needed to first ask myself was, what is it that holds me back? ⁣ ⁣

The answer is guilt.⁣ ⁣

Sometimes we fixate on our mistakes. We replay them over and over in our minds. We recognize our mistakes, and we own them, but we struggle with forgiving ourselves and letting it go. ⁣

Imprisoned by guilt, we’re doing time for being human. ⁣

If you don’t let go of guilt, you are consumed by it. It steals joy. It makes it really hard to be present in the moment because it keeps you tethered to the past. ⁣ ⁣

So you’re not perfect. No one is. ⁣ ⁣

The things you can’t change, those past mistakes… let them fall away. Abandon the idea of perfection. Embrace your beautiful truths. Celebrate your⁣ authentic self. Show yourself the same kindness that you do others. ⁣ ⁣

You are worthy.⁣ ⁣

It’s only when we learn to give ourselves grace that we can truly set ourselves free.

Fetching Seeds

If you ask me about
being strong,
or resilient,
or brave,

I’ll tell you about unfolding edges
and rebuilding
from a million little pieces
despite the wreck that remains;

and digging the dirt to bedrock
to fracture and shatter,
splinter and break.

I’ll tell you about going downward
and inward, and meeting with sorrow
and speaking to pain;

and when hell spills from your bones,
that you’ll fetch seeds from the
dried-up darkness and grow gardens
from graves.

I Am Extraordinary

I am extraordinary.
I am a wreck
and a masterpiece,
in equal parts.
I am a warrior,
I will get through
no matter what it takes.
It won’t be easy,
but I am determined
and unstoppable.
I will overcome
and rebuild.
I will bloom from the decay,
and I will thrive.
I will burn, break, and bleed.
I will wear my scars proud,
and I will rise from the ruins—
not unscathed,
but free.

Dismantled

There was something in the way
she dismantled herself—
the way she pulled fire from the sun
and burned;
the way she lay face down
in the rubble, breathing in
ash and despair;
the way she tasted the destruction
before she carved herself anew
from the black sky.

This is an excerpt from a piece I’ve written for my book.