I write to know myself.
I write to know who I am and who I am becoming.
When I started this blog back in the Spring of 2017, after over five decades of living, it had become clear to me that I only ever knew myself through the narrow and limited lens of other people.
What I knew of myself was tainted by a patriarchal culture.
I came to realize that I was more than an alcoholic and more than a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. I was more than my mental illness. I was more than a daughter, more than a woman, more than a wife, and more than a mother.
I am all the things, entailing darkness and light. Yet, I am even more than those.
I am ever evolving, ever becoming. My knowing of this Self is like a rambling river, ebbing and flowing with life, death and new life. And so it goes, repeating.
My knowing ever deepens into unknown places, places which take me beyond the narrow, constricting categories of a wounded and limited society.
And so, I write to know myself.