Earlier this month I was feeling quite lost. Unsure of where I was headed. And what I wanted.
What I really, really wanted in life.
And that was causing me a lot of anxiety. As facing the unknown often does.
I was used to hearing the voice of my intuition.
To knowing what felt right, and what I wanted. To life being a bit more black and white.
The grey zone was just not my thing.
I once heard grief is like a thumbprint. That no two are alike.
Now, more than ever, I really get that.
Grief is different for everyone.
After losing my mother a few months ago, I began my own roller coaster ride of grief.
Sometimes I felt terribly sad. That she, my one and only mother, had permanently left this world.
I didn’t care that she was almost 92. And had lived a long life. She was still my mother. And she was gone. Forever.
How could that possibly be? It shocked me to my core. And hurt like hell.
A girlfriend of mine recently said something that gave me pause.
Perhaps I hadn’t yet found a man worthy of me.
Worthy of me?
What a concept! It seems so basic.
Yet I realized the truth of it as soon as she said it. That I’ve actually had it backwards all my life.
I’ve been trying to prove to men that I’m worthy of them.
I’ve worked so hard to show them that I’m good, kind, smart, and capable.
And even more, that I’m not too needy, too emotional, or lord help me, too dependent! For fear they would run in the opposite direction.
Ugh. Seriously?! Wtf is up with that?