Who the hell am I?
Today, I decided to hang up a piece of embroidery that I had worked on and finished many years ago. I am not sure why I was embarrassed to hang it up years ago.
One of the things that I am learning about myself is that I am creative. SOOOO creative. And I ran away from that for a long time. Partly because it reminds me of my parents who are very artistic and part of it is the extreme vulnerability that comes from pouring your energy and heart into a project and having someone hate it.
I am 6 months into my divorce. I never thought divorce was going to be so painful. The end of the relationship was the easiest part of the process because in truth, it had ended years ago. The painful part was the exposure. I had no excuses to hide behind, no one to have my back, no protection, and I had no idea who I was. I thought I did.
I am an anxiety ridden, OCD, depressed, failure of a human. Except, that’s not all.
I am creative, I have a huge capacity for love and empathy, I am uber driven, and I have a spine of steel. I am a peerfectionist who makes so many mistakes, it’s a travesty.
The adjectives to describe me are numerous. And I have learned that I own them all. I am OCD, anxiety driven, I am a failure, but I am also a fighter, a lover, and a giver. The definition of me is changing and that is ok because I am me.
