Messy Courage

My greatest obstacle? Myself. I get inside my own head. daydreaming romanticizing questioning doubting I've always second guessed myself. my motives my methods Introspective I suppose. It's been this way with my faith. With my identity. Every time I step out, in vulnerability in encouragement in pursuit of my dreams I host a private belittling bash for myself. That sounded stupid. Did you just say that for attention? No one cares about that, Taylor. You overshare. That's not your purpose. But God is faithful. And God is good. He's been rebuilding my confidence. With every vulnerable moment. With every word of encouragement. With every song. With every thought. He's acknowledging me. my questions my intentions my feelings my desires Sweetly reminding me of what my spirit understands. He sees me. Light breaking through the clouds. new easy light refreshing ...

Tipping point. Pivotal moment. Turn of the tide. Whatever you wanna call it. How long I've hoped to be here. And on this day. 08/06 I've been dreading this day. Eight years. But I've reached that place. A sort of limbo. Resting on a mountaintop. I can see where I've been. But I'm not there anymore. And on this day. This anniversary that is no longer an anniversary. How significant. Overwhelming relief. that I'm out that I can breathe Deep grief. for all I lost for dead dreams Tipping point. Pivotal moment. Turn of the tide. I'm finally here. Looking ahead. Moving forward. Excited. to be happy to dream to live to thrive

Breathe. in deep out I feel light. relief hope different I have compassion. for myself young & innocent for myself fully aware I have grace and mercy for her. I am still sad. grieving rebuilding relearning But I am happy & excited. for what's next for things I've never had I am letting myself dream again. dreams I gave up on I am allowing myself to be foolishly hopeful. for things I want I am expecting restoration. beautiful redemption Whatever that looks like.

It's not fair. I didn't choose this. Someone else pulled the string that's unravelled my world. It's not fair. I'm a single parent. The long nights and short days are all mine. The fevers. The snuggles. The drool. The kisses. The hitting. The hugs. The discipline. The responsibility. All mine. It's not fair. I've been used and taken advantage of. I was selfless and gave everything. I got nothing in return. It's not fair. I'm living at home in my late twenties. Dependant. It's not fair. Nothing's fair. That's not stopping me. I refuse to get stuck. I will not live in self pity. It's an ugly place to be. It makes an ugly person. Life isn't fair. For anyone. This is just what I've been handed. And you'd better believe something beautiful is coming.

I'm at the beach. Burying my ass in the sand. And it's everywhere. I love it here. It's not quiet but it's peaceful. And we all know I need more peace. My life has been chaotic. painful. lonely. exhausting. stressful. I've been angry and confused. Hurt and rejected. Beaten down to the point of shrinking back. I have let everyone else tell me who I am. Or who I'm not. And I've believed them. Well I started a book today. Tailor Made by Alex Seeley It's about identity. So here I am. At the beach. Tired of the last five months.  I'm not sure I was ready until now. To put all the words spoken over me to rest. To change how I view myself and others. But it's time. I asked God. Who am I? I listed everything that's been said by others. You... are annoying are too loud talk too much need more compassion are intimidating are a piece of shit I listed other t...

It's 8am. I've been up for an hour. hurting grieving heartbroken The babe in my arms is as close to comfort as I can get. And it's not much. This whole "grieving a living person" deal is shit. It's not fair. But I'm doing it. One step at a time. "It is never too late to be what you might have been." - George Eliot I see this every morning. Something I wrote on a chalkboard. I didn't write it for me. At least, not at the time. Amid the pain and heartache, I've made a decision. It's my turn now.

What's wrong with me? This question has circled my identity. Like the moon orbits the earth. Sometimes it pulls at my heart. Other times there's no trace of it. What's wrong with me? But really, someone tell me. You're not good enough. You talk too much. You're obnoxious. You're too loud. You're too emotional. You're too opinionated. You're not as pretty. You're a bitch. You're too much. So it's been said. Second choice. Second option. Second best. There's always something better. __________ I know that all of this isn't true. But I have believed it over and over. This is how I've felt my entire life. Worthless. At my core. __________ So someone tell me. What's right with me?