this is how it starts.

I believe the first step to healing is an oxymoron. The first step is to realize, then accept, that you are not broken. But if you’re not broken, why would you need to heal?

We all carry pain within us, and we all, as unfortunate as it is, dole out this pain to others. I hate to admit this is normal. But would any of you say you disagree with the previous statement? So, good news! You are not broken at all. You are simply living and as a result, you are a product of a wold that thrives off of your fears and anxieties.

But it also thrives off of your love. So what would happen if we decided to confront those fears and anxieties and learn to only feed the world through our love, our positivity, our hope, our gratitude? Easier said than done, I know. That’s why I am here today, advocating small steps. This is how it starts.

I am doing it right now.

Despite having been a writer since the age of five (I authored my first book in kindergarten titled, “Cookies! Cookies! Cookies!” with illustrations drawn by my lovely mother.), and earning a bachelors degree in the subject, I barely write at all. And if I do, it’s certainly not for the world to see. In fact, for those of you who know me personally, I’m willing to bet the word “writer” isn’t even one of top 10 descriptors that comes to mind when asked to characterize me. Why?

Because I am a writer, and I am afraid.

To write is to let you in–to let you all in. To write is to put myself out there in the most rawest, real way I know how to. If I have ever loved you in any way then know I have probably written you a letter, that I probably never sent. To write opens me up to your judgment, your criticism, your entertainment.

But it also connects me to you, to your feedback, to your questions, to your encouragement. And most importantly, writing connects me to my healing, which has been a huge subject in my life for the past four months specifically.

I’ve been ruled by what others thought of me my entire life. While much of that has been combatted through self-love and increased self-esteem, it’s still a fight. I’m still very much ruled by this obsession to be well-liked. To the point where when I was being treated cruelly or unfairly, I stayed quiet. Anger and conflict were things I could not see as being productive or healing. But through anger, I’ve learned more about myself than ever, and very seldom does anger have anything to do with the person we’re actually directing it at. It’s a collection, a mosaic of emotions stemming from so many experiences in life that have left us wounded and wandering, wondering who’s going to bandage us up, and feeling hurt and betrayed when we find out that a person cannot (no one can) do this healing for us. With refusal to heal comes refusal to release. Refusal to release keeps us all in the same destructive patterns, feeding our anxiety, fear and pain.

I am writing today to tell you to release it.

I release the fear that I allowed to follow me whenever I claimed to be a writer. I release the anxiety that accompanies my thoughts concerning what others think of me. I release the resistance I’ve carried my whole life towards feeling anger. Anger is one step closer to forgiving; if not them then at least, but also at most, yourself.

I cannot tell you for sure what this blog will be about. Some subjects will likely be travel, poetry, tarot, astrology, and love. I am an expert in none but passionate about all.

It will not always be pretty, but it will be here if you’d like to read it. All I know is I have to write it.