Broken…that’s the word I use to describe myself. Unwhole, pieces, shattered, just broken. For years that has been the perception in my mind. My “broken” heart, my “broken” childhood, my “broken” family, and on, and on. In the last six months I have been on an amazing journey of self-discovery (or having a quarter-life crisis, whatever you want to call it) though and the best thing I have discovered is that I am not, in the least, broken. I am HEALING and what a miraculous difference there is between the two.

This is not an ending, it is a beautiful beginning. I am becoming the woman I was always, somewhere deep inside, meant to be. I am discovering or remembering all the pieces of myself that I had forgotten or never even knew existed. I am selfishly taking time to get to know who I am. I am spending time with the person who needs it the most. I am investing in my soul and already seeing the returns of that investment. My soul is on fire and what a beautiful thing that has been to watch.

I forgot that I love scary movies and haunted houses. I sat down and made a bucket list and learned I wanted to ride a motorcycle and that I wanted to learn to play the guitar. I want to see the ocean and feel the sand under my feet. I want to climb a mountain. I actually really like tattoos. Fitness matters a lot more than I thought it did to me. I forgot how much I love quotes, I could spend hours just pinning them. I forgot how eclectic my music taste could be if I give it that chance. I love photography and may even want to take a class in it. I am a terrible cooker and will never fit the mold for a perfect housewife. I want to go skydiving and feel myself free-falling.

In the last six months I have started meeting, getting to know, and falling in love with the most amazing woman and she has been right under my nose all along. It’s a beautiful relationship. So I will will no longer use the word broken. I will say I am healing. I am a survivor. I am a warrior. I am me and me is just right.


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