Courage Not Guaranteed

My Dearest Lovely,

No one is coming to meet you. There is no special guide or savior. You are going to have to travel this creative path and put your whole heart further into it. You are going to have to meet yourself. 

People like you are not meant to make it because out here, the word on the streets is, it’s “dog eat dog” and “only the strong survive.” You with your tender heart, your earnest gaze and your occasionally sad, watery eyes. I know how you feel, Lovely. Sometimes it can appear daunting, tiny little you against the big, wide, crowded and cynical world.  

You are the one you’ve been waiting for, Lovely. Wrap your head around that. The once brokenhearted among us,— those who climbed out of their pain and their misery, those who figured out how to win, those who now stand near the top of life’s pyramid as if all the broken glass they crawled across left no bloody trails— they’ve been expertly trained to stiffen their upper lip, sharpen their claws and preemptively strike wherever possible. 

No one is coming to meet you, you are going to have to help yourself. 

You are standing at the precipice, Lovely and it’s time for you to decide, another corner to turn, another fork in the road, another dark tunnel to step into. I know, here it comes again. Fear. Panic. Terror. You’d like to think you can’t, but it isn’t so, you actually can … and you know you have to.

So go ahead. Say it. Because saying it will give you a kind of strength you have yet to feel, saying it will take you places you have yet to attend. Say all the things you’ve been needing to say, let the world see more of your heart.

I know, you thought you were done. Middle-age for fuck’s sake, how much more healing could there possibly be? You have already looked around and taken stock— material possessions seemed accounted for, health appeared on the better side of fair. PTSD mortality? Still breathing, so yes, check. Sobriety? Check. Self-awareness? Check. Marriage strengthened? Check. Maternal improvements? Check. Your kids are safe? Check. Amends made? Still going, so yes, check. 

But wait, what’s this? Courage and self-love not guaranteed? Nope. Reset button needs hitting daily ….  for-fuckin-ever? Yes. I know, I’m sorry, life can be as complex as it is simple.

So go ahead, Lovely, cry it out. Tell them the truth about how hard this really is. There is no cap on brokenheartedness after you’ve survived life with NO PARENTS in your corner, after you’ve survived rapes, violence and alcoholism. You DO NOT have to suck anything up. You do not have to pretend that because you’ve reached a few pinnacles, that you are done feeling lost, confused or vulnerable. You are allowed to cry as much as you need to. 

So go ahead and cry. Let them know that feeling into your feelings is the source of your super-power. Let the world see that a few imagined demons of FEAR, with their long, sharp teeth dripping its slime, a few demons of SHAME, with their claws raised, threatening your throat, and those imagined demons of REJECTION with their potential booing and hissing— let the world see that these fears hold no power over a little girl who taught herself the art of surviving and thriving for all these decades. 

You must keep showing up, Lovely. There are countless others out here just like you, battling their own Fear-Monsters. There are way more of you and those others bearing bravely up against life’s storms than there are gatekeepers trying to sustain outmoded ways of thinking and living. Sound the battle-cry, let them see you and hear you. Stand and be counted, show others how strong we all can be if we keep showing up with hearts in hand, proffering our Love.

You haven’t done anything to be ashamed of, Lovely, you were given this life and you’re still living it. Cry, let them see your tears. Let them see what it looks like to regenerate courage, getting up after you’ve fallen down, and pressing forward through spaces echoing with solitude. Sound your battle-cry so we know we matter: once ago we were helpless children, now we are warriors of survival. Don’t you ever hide, Lovely. You deserve the space you are standing in. Keep going. We need each other.

You are stronger than you may ever know.

I love you.

With Light and Truth,

Self

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