It’s my two-year anniversary of moving back to America. Although a distant memory, one that will always feel like ‘just yesterday.’ I boarded my flight from Germany to DC, leaving behind everything that was comfortable…and immersed myself in the complete opposite; the unknown.
Leaving a place I called home, my husband, and the only life I knew was the bravest thing I’ve ever done. For so long I was scared of leaving, scared of being on my own, scared of what would happen next. Would I fail, would I be able to support myself, would life as I knew it no longer be?
Prior to leaving Germany I vividly remember driving home from my girlfriend’s house one night. On that drive home I plead with God to give me a sign. To let me know that I’d be ok, and that moving on was in fact something I could do on my own. I actually asked for Michael to be cheating on me. Not so I could go through the pain yet again, but so that I had a reason to leave my situation, to move on, to let go…
I got what I wanted, but was I ready to move on? I don’t know if we’re actually ever ready for the big leap of faith, to come face to face with our fears, to begin a life you know nothing about. Truthfully I thought about staying, trying to make things work (although I knew they never would), and living a life that I was so accustom to. One where we’re not happy but were programmed to think we are, because we have X,Y, and Z. But I didn’t want that. I wanted ME. Two letters that now equate to my entire being.
I realize it’s been well over two years since I last saw my ex, and that the stories of our relationship are no longer a part of my day to day life, but they have impacted me, they have changed me, and allowed me to become the person I am today. I don’t share these things so that people feel bad for me, or to stir up old emotions, I share things as a way for me to realize how far I’ve come, that my life could have ended up completely differently, and that no matter what- you always have a choice.
Sometimes I forget why I ask for certain things, mainly because they’re painful, or they teach me a lesson that I wasn’t quite ready for yet in the long run they only benefit me. It’s about trusting the process, knowing that the things you ask for aren’t necessarily delivered in the clean packaging you assumed it would come in, but rather a big messy ball of emotions, questions, and what if’s. Just know that once you put something out in the universe it does everything it can to help you get it–it’s just not always on your terms. That’s part of the process, the journey, and the reward.
It’s not that we expect too much, it’s that we have a very precise idea of what our expectations should look like. Let that shit go, because with each difficult situation we learn how to get through things a little easier.
I’ve become passionate about being honest, having an open book, being transparent, relatable, and feeling alive. Feeling alive doesn’t necessarily mean feeling great everyday, it means feeling the emotions you didn’t know you had, learning how to heal the scars you once stitched together, it’s learning that through your insecurities, self doubt, fear, shame, and guilt –you’re growing. That you can’t create your future by simply predicting it, you have to allow it to unfold the way it’s supposed to… not the way you intend for it to.
Perfection and the appearance of having it all together no longer excites me or inspires me to be a better person, in fact by struggling, veering off course, and getting in touch with feelings and emotions that were once untouchable, now fuel me.
Declare what you are and who you’re going to be. Say it boldly and unapologetically. And make each day an extension of you.
I turned my mess into my message, my dirty laundry into something I wanted to air out, I decided to make something beautiful out of my wounds, heartache, and something broken.
Not just for me, but for the women who have influenced me, and for the women that have and will continue to share their journeys through life, love, and fitness. It allows us as women to see that we’re all relatable, we all have common ground to stand on, and we all have a reason to uplift one another.
So today, two years later, I want to say thank you for letting me break, completely, into a million pieces and allow myself to see that I’m capable of so much more, of rebuilding, replanting, and growing independently.
Thank you for allowing me to realize that intuition never steers you wrong, that despite not knowing what to do with the answers we’re given…we ultimately know them.
Thank you for teaching me that settling is no longer an option for me, that when it’s time for me to be in a relationship I know what I want, and what I deserve.
Thank you for allowing me to make my mess my message, my defeats into triumphs, and feeling like I was the victim into my victories.
Make it happen.