I woke up early, as I do each morning, and read a DM from a young woman asking if I feel like I have found myself?
I have found myself.
I have lost myself.
Many times over.
In the beginning of my recovery, I fell into the belief that my journey was to find myself. I searched fearlessly and endlessly. As soon as I thought I had arrived to where I was meant to be, I was left with even more questions about who I am and how I fit in the world.
I do not believe my path is to a stagnate self or a place where I am standing still, rather finding faith and comfort in the ever-changing landscape of my life. Like exploring a mysterious cavern, using my hands and feet to find my way, through the dark, only to emerge in a magnificent opening, filled with light and fresh air.
My journey has been full of unexplored spaces, always, leading to glorious days in the sunlight of ease and peace. I have learned to embrace the free fall, face forward, arms spread wide, having faith that I will land on solid ground, even though I cannot see it.
I have lost myself in the despair of addiction and found myself in sobriety.
I have lost myself in parenting to find myself surrounded by family filled with laughter and love.
I have lost myself in success and failure and found myself in balance.
I have lost myself in deep, mad, perfect love and excruciating heartbreak and found myself with a new strength and the ability to stand in solidarity.
I have lost myself in all-encompassing grief, burying the father of my children, only to find myself, once again, in acceptance.
Getting lost, means I am growing and my life is expanding and changing. Rather than finding myself, I hope to lose myself, over and over again.
And so, I wish for you.