I don’t want to write this.
Because it’s hard.
Because it’s really uncomfortable.
Even meditating on it, my mind deflects me elsewhere. ‘Oh look, I’m having a creative moment, best get to that.’
So with that, I won’t just yet.
Last year kicked off acknowledging the chaos of the previous years and, well, 2022 just says chaos overlapping chaos. Is that what life is now?
2022 was about time for me.
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” I know what I’m supposed to do. Lean into it. It’s simple but really fucking hard.
A snapshot of the universe continuing to swing wildly: I’ve been ill more than a ‘healthy’ person should be, 14+ days of constant migraines, COVID, and whatever shit I had over Christmas. We came close to losing our sister and our niece — born at 27 weeks. The mental health of those around me rises and falls — the struggle touches everyone and for some, it was too much.
It reminds me that no one is infallible.
And as the chaos and struggle chips away, I couldn’t keep it at bay anymore. It was a feeling of incredible sadness. But it was different this time. I knew I was in there. I knew it wouldn’t last. I didn’t try to force it. I didn’t judge. I was still in it on my birthday but the night before and the day were really kind of beautiful.
An unexpected 10+ inches of snow hit us Sunday night so we went ‘sledding’ and nothing else mattered. Just people playing in the snow as the snow continued into the night.
It was also the okayness in not doing anything specific with B while we walked around London. She and her husband told stories about their boys. Those moments of absolutely losing control of your limbs kind of laughter can’t be traded for anything. I managed to feel all of this while still having this incredible sadness within me.
With a deep breath, that’s where I leaned in and didn’t demand when it would end. Like everything, this is a practice that will catch me out sometimes and I’m settled with the knowledge of falling into the hole in the forest. Because I know I’ll get out again and I have some amazing people around me that I’m finally learning to lean on.
From incredible sadness to something altogether just incredible.
The one thing I didn’t openly write about or really discuss with many was psychedelics. I remember sitting on the sofa in the new year quietly saying to myself ‘this year, I’ll be doing it’. The universe heard my intent loud and clear. Only two weeks later a WhatsApp from Rach (there’s a theme here) set us both on that path.
We went away with two others that would be there to watch over us to a secluded and truly stunning location. I can honestly say I’ve never met anything with the absolute confidence that I did with this.
This is where I was supposed to be, doing what I was supposed to be doing, with the person I was supposed to be doing it with.
Meditating on it that morning held an image of me, my bare back turned towards the forest in what I can only describe as savage confidence. This is where I was supposed to be, doing what I was supposed to be doing, with the person I was supposed to be doing it with. Even now, I can feel that in my chest. Even down to knocking back the psilocybin, there was no ‘oh shit, what have I done’ moment, just trust.
It was beautiful, joyful, playful, I don’t think I’ve ever smiled like I did that night. Was I expecting this? Absolutely not. I was expecting to ugly cry, to be confronted with hard things. But, as I’ve been told, it gives you what you need, not what you want. And I definitely wasn’t expecting my trip to be a mashup of animation styles or that two snakes would come from within me. These snakes essentially acted as side-kicks on this journey.
I’ve spent so long suppressing playfulness to get work done. So long suppressing myself for fear of judgement and isolation, that I only ended up with those exact things anyway — a self-fulfilling prophecy. And now I’m in my 30’s learning how to open myself up to people and what I need. That being serious and playful are not mutually exclusive. There’s a duality in life that I’ve never considered, being an in or out type of person. To feel incredible sadness while also allowing the light in. To wish someone well while sitting at different tables.
My words will never do this trip justice. It will happen again.
So many messages that I’d need a whole different blog for it. Even now, I’m still struggling to write what I want to write. To lead into my word for this year. For some, I imagine it’d be odd to think this so difficult but, fuck me, there’s an invisible wall that is really rather hard to get through.
I’ve always had difficulty with love.
I’ve always found it difficult to say ‘I love you’, to anyone.
I go to say it and it gets stuck much like the invisible wall that slows me down now writing about this. Why is it linked to my trip? Because a woman appeared that represents all these things and she held me in safety and I leaned into it. My sidekicks adored her. They continued to bring her up throughout the trip saying things like ‘Don’t forget! Don’t forget to tell her!’, ‘Don’t forget to tell her that she looked good, you promise!’ like a passionate 5-year old.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had relationships. They don’t last long and mostly end with the same ‘Oh shit, I’ve done it again’. I get into these relationships already on a lie. This is incredibly unfair to the other person, I know. You cannot build from shaky and cracked foundations.
I wasn’t a good girlfriend. I only put them first when it strategically made sense. It’s what you’re ‘supposed to do’ not what I wanted to be doing. There’s only one person that I’ve said those words to and I didn’t mean it. I hate it because she wanted to hear it all the time, at the end of phone calls, when she was saying goodbye, sprinkled in random conversations. To say it back was criminal. It gave a sense of hope to somebody that I was never going to deliver on. I never said it out loud again.
I’m aware the above may sound somewhat dramatic but for me, I’ve never really been in love. I’ve never experienced having to think about another person. I don’t know what it’s like to miss someone. To go home to someone. To make space. To fuck up and work through it.
I feel like I’ve missed out on something that I took for granted as a child. I just imagined that it was something that would happen, that I would have someone in my life. That it happens for everybody. But when you’re a child you don’t realise that you have to put yourself on the line, you have to put yourself out there. You have to risk being hurt. That’s absolutely what I didn’t want to do. Have never wanted to do it but now I need to.
In therapy I have, over time, addressed my feelings of being unlovable. That I couldn’t possibly be worthy of someone else’s time and affection. That I’m too weird, too broken, too boring, and not actually remotely attractive.
I’ll work on myself before I allow someone in. A great excuse that serves me no longer.
I’m not naive, I understand relationships require work, to show up for each other, that they’re messy. And I’m not saying that 2023 is about me finding love either but to the possibility of it. To not walk around like I’m apologising to the world anymore. To just be open to it.
Because I’m worthy of love and that brings me to tears if I linger on it too long.
Because. I. Am. Worthy. Of. Love.
I honestly don’t know how I’ll show up for this either because I’m shit at talking to women I find attractive and have absolutely no clue at knowing when someone is interested. It’s pretty scary and I’m not looking for platitudes. What I would like to see though is more people like me in the world that represent my experiences (or lack of as is clear to read!). And now I want to go off and start a podcast with conversations about love 🙄
If you got this far, thank you for staying with me.
2023
Stay weird • Get messy • You are worthy of love in whatever form that may be
