A Little More Honey...
Talking Back To Myself For My 35th Birthday
Cheers to you baby girl, lovely, Rainbow Eyes, Ash, AJ, La, Truly, Bright Lights…
You know some things now. You’ve become someone now. You feel some things now that you never knew how to dream. You’ve been doing the work that claims and files and returns from the inside outward. Celebrate it.
You’re starting to understand that you don't have to deprive and punish yourself for not immediately being who you want to become. Drop yourself some breadcrumbs. Pour yourself a little more honey.
You’re getting the hang of calling a thing a thing.
I know remembering hasn’t been a strong suit but now you know why you don’t remember so many things. Suppression for survival’s sake has happened to you. Reconnecting with your body is happening for you. And your mind is coming back together.
What a feat. To double down on vulnerability in friendship and trying at love when every bit of past dysfunction has tried to keep you afraid and alone.
You know how to release your breath when it decides on a whim to lock itself up. You feel it now. You don’t let yourself turn blue. You’re reconnecting with you.
The progress is slow but steady as you fill up the space you were meant to occupy. No need for apologizing for any bit of yourself. There was never a need. You know you belong anywhere you find yourself now. It’s not just something catchy to write. You know it now. Even if you feel awkward in certain rooms.
Your beat. Your path. Your hook. Your moment is always in the nuance. Your domain is in the details. And you know that now too. You feel it in your bones and in your throat and in your chest and fingertips. You come from a different angle and you’re not ashamed of it anymore because you can clearly see the beauty that only you can bring to the fore.
Time is meant to be taken. And you’re taking yours.
You’re doing that better now because you’re more connected to your breath and your body and your God.
There is no manipulative threat of repercussion that can so easily throw you into the anxiety of trying to live right over allowing yourself to live well. You’re finished with that existence.
You know how to reject any label that separates you from the God you love, who first loved you without His foot on the brake.
Being to be and not to be seen is a top 3 goal. You’re getting closer with every bit of the unnecessary you release. Including perfection.
You’re reading again, sis. What?! Beautiful for situation what God can do and what mind space gets freed up when thriving overpowers surviving.
You go where, do what, read things that, commune with people who, stay close to what throws kindling on your fire.
You remember that you can move. And that movement - like water - is a healing thing.
You’ll defeat that involuntary code switching that grabs your voice box. Don’t worry. Keep pushing through. Your voice is there.
“Give me what is sufficient for me” is your prayer now and that’s a major accomplishment having lived in the throes of survival for so long.
Whether due to fatigue or good sense, you’ve given up the chase. And we thank God for it.
How many people can say they know the concentrated joy of falling asleep just there under the cover of His love? I don’t know but you’re in the number now.
You’re letting tears happen whether for pain or anger or unbelievable love and joy or sadness. You’re letting rage happen because it has its place and you are not bad or wrong for giving it the floor for a time.
Your mind can now wrap itself around strategizing for a future. For real. You can genuinely glory in the fact that you can see and feel and taste and touch a future when for years there was only numbness.
Not only can you feel feelings again, you notice them now. You feel safe enough to get curious about them. About yourself. About understanding why you’re marked by the Divine. You notice and you’re ok with the light in your eyes and the fire between your rib cage.
This is the first time in years you’ve been free enough, open enough to allow words on a page to move you to tears. You know what touches you and what you’re touching at any given moment. Presence. Can you feel that? Damn sure can.
Thanksgiving is a lifeline. You’re thankful that you are safe enough not to leave your body anymore. You are learning your body in the now and being comfortable wherever you are.
You’re remembering memories you didn’t know were there and exploring dynamics you didn’t have the strength to excavate before.
Understanding what it means to forgive yourself for things you did when you didn’t love me like I am learning to love you now. Forgiveness for staying too long. Forgiveness for thirstily gulping dregs, terrified you deserved nothing more. Forgiveness for giving up too easily. Forgiveness for letting fear paralyze.
Allowing yourself to sit right here and feel deep and wide and high and round and back and forth.
You’re getting comfortable with needing little more than to just be.
You’re extending olive branches to the people God told you to love despite yourself and because you are loved. Seeing God in the people you swore could never bear His reflection.
Remembering that you’re here, right now and everything outside of you will take care of itself.
Working your way towards forgiving the dead who never offered their apologies. Figuring out how to walk without the limp of hurt and shame they inflicted on you.
Loving yourself easily and without apprehension. Letting yourself be loved well by those who understand the flow of water and all its forms.
Working through the deep sadness that comes when you remember you’ve never been protected and cared for consistently by someone you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt you could depend on. But also daring to believe it’s going to happen and you’ll be ready when it does.
Laying down sword and shield to decorate the table He’s prepared for you in the presence of your enemies. Knowing those enemies are mostly in your own mind. Setting places for as many as will come and dine at this feast of newness.
Being a willing witness to all you were and all you are. Bearing prophetic mantle to see who you will be.
