wise woman bullsh*t // thirty-six

⟨⟪ October 21, 2020 ⟫⟩

⟨⟪Libra sun, Virgo moon, Aries rising + a bunch of other stuff to make it extra interesting = me ⟫⟩

"Seek what feels true, even beyond the logical"

theme for this year round' the sun// [from my card pull on my b-day morning]

For my birthday this year, i’m giving myself the gift of full transparency and a bit of self indulgence. So I can look back a year, a decade from now and know exactly where I was to reflect on how far i’ve come. To witness what felt most true in this season in my life. And I share it with you, because in case you are struggling with any of the same feels and pulls and feel crazy/depressed/alone/curious/excited or anything else in between, I see you. I feel you…

[And in case you were wondering about the title of this post: it became, as a result of a convo I was having with my fabulous sister-friend Stacey Sexton, before we began recording an episode for Relentlessly Authentic Radio [stay tuned for that wild, fun and introspective convo coming in a few weeks] and I made a comment in jest about having "not yet written my wise-woman-bullshit-birthday-post for instagram yet" as if my birthday hadn't really been made official because IG wasn't notified of it by me [we had a good laugh about it]. So yea, wise woman bullshit feels about right; a nod to my ridiculous + this is indeed my version of wisdom— a little self indulgence and possibly some bullshit i’ve created to sound like I know what i’m talking about… spoiler: i’m winging it ;) ]

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what a year //

The year leading up to this that was called 35, wasn’t even a little bit what I expected to it to be. I’ve learned to accept that I don’t ever really know whats going to happen or how it’s going to happen and I’m mostly ok with that. But this particular one, well, it’s been confronting in a more subtle way than 33 and 34 were, but confronting nonetheless. And illuminating. And quiet. And inward. And explosive.

Rife with hopeful moments of grace balanced by seemingly hopeless depths.

Humbling. Visceral. And so much more… 

stepping into thirty-six //

And now, stepping into this new cycle, new season, a part of me feels very, very inward [something new and different for me *said with sarcasm and an eye roll*]. Maybe I could chalk it up to Autumn and the waning light as we walk toward winter. Or the Scorpio season waters that we are now wading in. Maybe it’s all the flipping Scorpio In my chart {Mercury, Pluto, and Lilith in 7th house, South Node and Saturn 8th house— hello underworld!} working me over. It’s a constant tension and seeming contradiction I’m attempting to find equilibrium in. My desire to share and connect outward both at a personal level and on a larger scale with community— and with the world— competing with my need and desire to stay inward, for quiet, to become clear in my own voice, to drown out all the noise around and be in my own stillness; to be my own grounding point. So the mirror of the world doesn’t distort my truth.

I know I need to find the balance point between extremes for all things [hello 7th house Libra sun] but there is an irrationally strong pull I feel in this moment to escape to the woods and block out the rest of the world until the only voice that remains is my own and not come out until the first draft of my book is complete.

There are messages that want to explode out of me— to support a greater awakening and healing that we are collectively walking into; that many are recognizing needs to take place for us to bring humanity back into the actual forefront and I know i’m meant to be a part of this movement; reclamation of humanity and reconnection with soul; shifting to a new paradigm of power dynamics that will bring us back to a balance that we need. And i’m constantly exploring how to bring this to life; into form. And then inevitably, as I start to pour out, it’s like the messages get stuck. Or I escape out of them. Or I come up with something else I want to create/try/experience and it distracts me away from the spaces I’m pretty sure I need to sit my ass down and just be with.

Squirrel.

[And that’s just all that happens in my head.]

Back on the human, practical level, amidst the constant urge to pull down out of the ether, the creations i’m meant to birth and share, my practical hands on client work has all but stopped over the last 8 months. More tension to sit with not only on the financial “survival” front, but also a feeling the void of not feeling as though i’m being in service to anyone. And then there are the stories around value and enough vs. not— “can I ever make this work” [this being a business that sustains my ideal lifestyle], and then coming back to questioning, what does “it working” authentically look like for me, and where is the line between where I have to play in the way things are vs. the world I want to be a part of? Ugghhh.

Knowing that anything not in my integrity loses it’s momentum to come to life, so I can’t focus on the money, but when the money isn’t there, it’s hard not to focus on it. Feeling exhausted with very little tangible anything to show for it. And knowing all the while that my mindset and internal narrative isn’t really exactly helping things. Trying to give myself the grace I always invite others to gift themselves… some days are better than others.

I love my solitude and sometimes it’s incredibly lonely and challenging to keep going without a team around me. And it’s not something I can outsource. A prison of my own volition as I recognize I chose this path. Or did it choose me? Who knows anymore…

Oh, me and my tensions and contradictions…

And I feel shame and all sorts of self judgement and yuck, recognizing it, let alone sharing that “out loud”. For not just being grateful that I have the luxury and privilege to sit here whining about my first world/white girl problems. Because I do have support. But I state it, because, it’s the narrative that is flowing through me, for better or worse. And I’m consciously attempting to rewrite and stand in what my story around my value actually is, and giving myself permission to feel frustrated and tired and throw a tantrum— to feel my fucking feelings, while keeping a pulse on the fact that i’m actually safe, and not going to go without in this moment. In order to stop blocking what can come in if I give it some room to do so. To move out of the fear that I will never be enough [whatever that even means] or that i’ll put my heart and soul in and nobody will show up for it— for me.

A few years ago, I had steady and a good income working in the corporate realm. I was doing a lot of stuff. I think I looked like someone most would define as successful. And I was miserable. I wasn’t fulfilled and my soul was starved for something I couldn’t even have named if I tried at that point.

Remembering that the life I led prior to this iteration of me, was— from the outsider perspective— more “successful” financially. And it nearly drowned me.

So I know i’m where I need to be. I have the contrast to know that. I know the value I have to provide, even if I haven’t yet figured out how to create a financially supportive life around that in this moment. And I know I have to do this. I can’t explain the “why” in words, I just know. It’s a truth. And I often wish there were some easier way, but I know the only way is through... facing the stories, the shame, the bits that still need forgiveness and frankly, allowing me to spill out the unfiltered after a lifetime of censoring...

So what does 36 feel like for me, in this moment, and as I look ahead to the next cycle around the sun?

It feels like a work in progress. Forever and always. Leaning into the tension I feel from current status-quo definitions of what makes us “enough” and continuing to, even with resistance, lean into trust, that this transition— is a necessary initiation for me to step more fully into what comes next— for me to clear space to create what feels supportive and alive and true. 

And I wonder as I write these words how many of you reading this— not in my inner circle—  would have guessed that I wrestle often with any of these particular gremlins. I don’t know, maybe you had already pieced it together that I am still navigating certain waters with a lot of uncertainty. But I hope in sharing it, that it is a reminder, that what we perceive and what is true about others, are stories we create and in order to know the truth, we have to lean in a bit. Peel back layers, be willing to get a little messy to get to the treasure of what is real. And also a reminder why comparison [especially over social media] is risky business— because we don’t actually know what someone else is dealing with, what their real is behind the scenes.

So in case you didn’t realize and you thought I had it all together. I don’t. I know what I have inside, I know the love and intentionality + an immense amount of reflection and compassion I show up from and I have the integrity to birth it into life + almost a decade now of knowledge I have been accumulating and pieces i’ve been putting together— and I know it’s supportive to the world that we are stepping into. I know I’m meant to be here, taking this path. And my medium for sharing— like this blog and Relentlessly Authentic Radio— is with the intention of empowering at the individual level through inviting you in to witness my process and unfolding; and giving the collective an invitation and space to shift to a new paradigm that allows for more room for all of us to shine in our own, messy, unique humanness— what a beautiful potential we have.

We are all human. We all have struggled and I think there is liberation and a lot more beautiful, healing creation and being that comes when we know it’s ok that we are in tough moments and we aren’t alone in that; we don’t have to be alone with it. And I say it here to remind myself that it’s ok for me to not know it all, have it all together; that my inherent humanity and vulnerability and sometimes ridiculous insecurity, makes me no less valuable or capable of what I came here to do and be; makes me no less worthy of love and “success”.

I am you and you are me.

who i am // in this moment.

I’m a woman who is consciously leaning in and leading from soul. Who is ready to stop apologizing for not being what others perceive me to be, or want me to be; a wild old soul, with big ideas of how to heal the world, who is over being less of her true. Who is not interested in a comfortable lie over a hard truth. I could make it more palatable for you— I am plenty capable of twisting myself into knots to conform to your comfort, but it wouldn’t serve me or the world.

I’m a woman still working to heal her relationship with her inner polarities— distrust of the masculine + bringing feminine more and more to life; sick of feeling held at arms length or resisted; working to let go of the stories and fears that there is nobody in this world that is going to see the real me, and stay.

[Did I mention my karma themes are big around trust — 8th house south node, scorpio— fun stuff]

A woman who knows what she has to give and wants to play in the deep waters of romantic love/intimacy in partnership and is open to that man, to step into my space ready to meet in my all; a man that is powerful in his own right, takes ownership of his journey and also knows his life, by my side will be infinitely fuller and has the desire to show up for the potential that our partnership holds for both of us— who will allow me to pour my love and support into him.

I want play, and pleasure and comfortable companionship.

I am a woman that, amidst it all, the uncertainty, doubt and mess— even just in my willingness to express these things about me that bring up the internal cringe— I find myself, more in love with me than ever before…

Finding my way back to center more often and with more ease.

Stepping into a strength I always knew was there, but both resisted and hadn’t yet figured out how to authentically harness.

I also often feel lost and stuck and tired of trying to figure it out and having to do it all on my own.

Sitting with the tensions of seeming contradiction is another growth point that has seriously helped me keep moving forward. It doesn’t stop the moments or days of feeling untethered and frustrated AF, but I don’t drown there anymore.

Fuck yes to growth!

I feel at home in my body in ways I have never before. And I think I say that every year, and it continues to be true.

I’ve let go of things I didn’t think I was capable of. I’ve leaned into spaces that in the past I’ve avoided out of Fear—feelings of being an imposter, or worries about how I would be received, fear of further isolating myself from a world I already feel barely connected to some days. 

I’ve also come to terms with the reality that the underworld is at least a partial home for me, and recognize the gift and the challenge in what it is to be me. And I love it. And some days I roll around in it and ask “why?!?” And I cry and scream and move my body, and another layer is shed, and I feel lighter, freer. And then I’m grateful. And tired. And there is a knowing on the other side of every one of these seasons and cycles...

What a gift this growing and living and evolving; what a beautiful journey coming home to self really is.

open heart territory //

This past year, I learned how to have my own back, to be my own safe space and to let go of the idea of those I held onto with the tightest of grips…and it was the foundation I needed to build to deepen into this next level of opening. I’ve said goodbye. A lot. To people. To not-true versions of me that I held onto out of… out of fear maybe, habit, lack of awareness even? To stories that have kept me stuck in striving and attachment. I have said goodbye to liberate, to clear space and open myself to the terrifying potential that it may be time for me to stop hiding and allow a new chapter to begin, to allow another in, in the way my heart and soul desire.

I have let go so I can learn a new way, the truer way.

And i’ve put out the call that I’m finally ready to clear the rubble and blockages in the heart spaces— and the universe is delivering in spades. Lilith and Kali vibes are working me over in a deliciously painful sort of way. Cracking me open, and not in a gentle way [is there even a gentle way to be cracked open I wonder?!] And I don’t like it. And I know it’s moving me exactly to where I need to be. It’s bringing me home. To spaces that never felt safe to rest in. That I shut off to protect little me.

And often times I feel like a really mature and knowing, toddler. I’ve got the idea of where i’m going, but some wobbly ass legs to carry me around. So yea, my 13 year old gangly with braces + a head taller than most of the boys, fearing that nobody likes me-self, is some days how this all feels— AWKWARD AF.

Trust. Play. Speak truth. Do the things.

These are my calls to action this year. Continuing to lean into learning what it means to relate, in a whole and open and receptive way, to build trust and to be fully me, even when the world at large may not understand what the f*ck I’m talking about, where I’m going and why... to stand in my mission and vision for this world: 

And I stand in gratitude. In this version, of me. For the beautiful friends and family I am held by. A special shout out to my parents for supporting me and believing in this mission and work I feel called to lean into. I am humbled by the privilege I am afforded to stumble around and figure this shit out and try my best not to feel guilty for receiving support as I find my way [receiving gracefully is another one of those big lessons that I resist and struggle with, but i’m working on it]. And along with this gratitude, is a promise it’s with a purpose and intention to support as many others as I can, on this clunky, wobbly ass and empowering journey home; being as real as I can along the way…

Relentlessly Authentic is an accountability buddy for me. To lean into the messy, the shameful, the judgement and the simultaneous joy, pleasure and play and witnessing how it all interacts simultaneously and sometimes in seeming conflict.

I am my work in action. In this moment. Constantly becoming.

Thank you for being a part of this journey with me. Thank you as always, for witnessing me and receiving me, exactly as I am…

with gratitude and always love

❤︎

October 21st is my actual born day— this particular one I spent it with my local loves; the women who are my arms to cry in when I’m really being worked over, who see me and love me, exactly as I am, who I can laugh and philosophize about life with. What a gift they are ❤️. I did this little mini selfie-shoot—I was the most dressed up I had been in longer than I can actually remember— wearing a dress + heels (do slide in mules count as heels? F-it— they do this week 🥴🤣). It’s the little things that put a pep in my step and a little extra sway in my hips— not gonna lie— I was feeling myself and it felt good stepping out mid day on a Wednesday way dressier than I normally ever would in my little corner of town.

I got to enjoy a proper Scottish afternoon tea. If you don’t know, Edinburgh is my favorite city in the world and it felt like being home, the next best thing to sitting in the meadows on a blanket, drinking a coffee and chatting about life with @silkedykstra, was hearing a person with a Scottish accent greet me as I walked in [the owner of this tea room is from Edinburgh]. So I drank tea, and laughed and chatted with my momma, and two of my best friends + my little 7 month old adorable chunker of a nephew who was a bonus addition to the party and as always put an extra big smile on my face.

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It was a good day.

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A few things that happened while 35 for memory sake:

I moved into an apartment which has become my little safe nest after not having my own space for a few years. ◆ I met some amazing humans + facilitated workshops around Coming Home and healing and spoke at the first Annual Women’s Self Worth Conference. ◆I went to Canada to spend a week with a soul sister I met over IG + got to spend an afternoon with a loved one I hadn’t seen in 6+ years. ◆I became an Aunt! [aunt life is the best life]◆ I spent a lot of time in aforementioned apartment pondering the meaning of life and my place in it.◆ I became a plant mama— 12 or so babies and counting. ◆ I launched nicolettebernardes.com [previously resilientlifecoaching.com]◆ I started a podcast! {squeezed that one in right at the last minute- last month was it’s launch}◆ I re-launched the aforementioned nicolettebernardes.com ◆ I didn’t publish my first book, but thats' still on my “is happening” list… ◆ I read, probably 45 fiction novels, mostly about witches, time travel or some sort of historical fiction, or a combination of two or three of those genres- not really an accomplishment, just a nod to where my head has been ;) ◆ I got called a witch in the midst of a sexual encounter— yes, i’m partially testing to see who is still reading— and yes, it happened, and is now one of my favorite stories to sum up the ridiculousness that is attempt at dating/relating 🤣◆

And I saw my favorite performer, Allen Stone, live for the 3rd time at the 9:30 club [like 8th time overall] it was epic and heart-full and I was so blessed to share it with my beautiful friend Amanda. If you don’t know Allen Stone, here is a link to a song that feels appropriate in this moment. Hit’s me in the heart every. damn. time. [His shows are a spiritual experience for me.]

The rest is a bit of a blur… because you know, covid + the incessant speed that the world is coming to a tipping point, so I spent most of 2020 just trying to find my internal still-point and managing the uncertainty and incessant inundation of stimulus we have all be navigating…

{matriarch}

Waxing Gibbous Moon in Sagittarius

I spent some time this evening with my grandmother.

She is 89 years old and I had this realization on my drive home, that there are only a handful of times in my adult life that I have willingly gone to spend time with her one on one [without some family event as the catalyst]. I’ve judged myself as being a “bad” grandchild, and felt a guilt that I had a hard time bringing her in close to me. I felt sad that I didn’t ever really know how to connect with her, and found myself not even really wanting to for a long time, and I could never put my finger on why that was.

And it’s only been in the last few years I realized: Trust. I didn’t trust her. I’ve done a lot of unpacking around my resentments and distrust of those who I know love me the best that they can, but it’s taken years of this coming home journey to open myself up to build trust and true relationship with certain people in my life, and especially the women in my family. Because while it was they who I rationally know showed me the most love, and never shied away from telling me exactly how much they loved me—there was a part of me, part south node in 8th House Scorpio [karma to work through around trust and betrayal as a whole in this life] —and then part “little me”, that carried a perception— a story and distrust—that they didn’t protect me; that they stayed out of the line of fire and let me take the heat to protect themselves[the un-mothered mothers— if you haven’t heard of this concept and it just grabbed your attention—read The Ugly Duckling story in “Women Who Run With the Wolves”] … that’s the story my inner child has been carrying around as armor for 30+ years and projected out to keep me on guard and at a “safe” distance from them.

And there is more story there, that maybe i’ll dig into at a later time, but for now, I want to talk about the contrast of what i’m experiencing now, after 20 years of feeling a huge gap between my grandmother and myself and how we are finding our way back to each other, truly meeting for the first time.

One of the best shifts that have come as a byproduct of my coming home to myself— showing up for and as fully me as I can be— is that it has opened the door for those old resentments to be healed and moved out of the way so I can see others clearly and begin to build trust and healthy relationships; especially with those who have always loved me and tried to show me that love in the ways that they knew how—even when I didn’t know how to recognize and receive it.

The bridge I had to cross to meet them was accepting their love without attachment and clearing the way of the hurt I had harbored beneath the surface for so much of my life. It had to be acknowledged [as irrational and gross as it felt to do so], witnessed and processed in order to move it’s way through—in order to make space for a more true, and pure love to flood in. This has been a hard and humbling process for me; one I have leaned into begrudgingly with more projection, blame and “poor me” narratives than any other relationships…

…And then there are boundaries. I had to start setting and holding boundaries from a place of love and integrity, in all areas of my life; around what was ok and not ok for me— and holding those as an act of love, compassion and belonging to myself above all else. Nobody gets exemption from that, including family. Boundaries are the hardest. Especially those that you have decades of history of being a certain way with— it’s a process of stumbling a lot in order to eventually find sure-footing, after face-planting a few times— but it gets easier over time; and i’ll just leave it at that.

It also helps— the clearing space and the forgiveness and the boundaries— it allows me to see them as the perfectly, imperfect humans, doing the best they can— and recognize and accept my own reflection in them.

There is an acceptance that comes; of the truth that none of us get out of our childhoods without some wounds and stories turned beliefs that shape how we show up in the world; that there is trauma we pass along, generation after generation, and when it doesn’t get brought to the surface to be healed, it festers and creates unseen, yet felt wounds that continue to be passed along and played out on those around us and absolutely affects how we love and relate to one another. Acceptance comes when judgement and shame begin to leave the building… when we can begin to see it as it is, instead of how we still judge it should be [or how we would have preferred it to have been], and how powerless we have felt as a result of that which was mostly out of our control to begin with.

And where we reclaim our power amidst all of that which is out of our control: it’s in our decisions— what we do with these experiences. We either face them or we bury them; Lean into the discomfort and pain of processing that which has been festering, or escape and avoid. And I have to say, I have some badass warrior women in my family who at all ages and stages in life, are standing in the discomfort of facing things about self and humanity, love and relationship; things that happened a long time ago, yet affect the way in which they relate to the world around them. And they continually choose growth; they show up for a chance at deeper connection and more truth.

Brave, badass women I come from. 

This is a work in progress, and i’m definitely not there yet…I feel this is going to be a lifelong journey; but in taking the steps, leaning into the vulnerability of trust, the reward is i’m already seeing growth from these seeds that are being planted.

The beautiful thing about knowing my truth is that I can speak about these things, openly with my her now and I feel less and less resistance to allowing her close to me. The more I accept and affirm myself, the easier it is to take the risk of showing her who I am. And the reward is that I can also see and get to know her. And in all of this, as space is cleared, there is room for forgiveness. There is grace in this clearing.

And it’s opening the door for me to see all the beautiful things about her. She is an unbelievably resilient, resourceful and hardworking woman. A woman who was once a young girl who lost her mother too young, and never really had a safe space or home to call her own as she was passed along amongst family until she got married as a young woman. A girl who was only allowed to go to school until 4th grade (because her stepmother lied to her father and she was punished and he refused to send her any longer). Who is left-handed [like me] but being born in 1931, and in school not too many years later when they believed that left handed people were the devil or something ridiculous like that, and was forced to learn how to write right-handed, and now is ambidextrous. Who was acting as mother and father in her household for 6 years to my father and his older sister when my grandfather went to France to work [as he sent money home to them in Portugal]. Who fought for her children— got her family sponsored and visas and immigrated to the United States when my father was 12, so they would have a chance at more than was possible in Portugal, a chance for them to go to college. Who learned a new language, built a business and new home, all after the age of 40 as a means to continue to provide for her family.

She left behind the known and started over, again and again.

She is smart, curious and creatively gifted; has been a seamstress for over 70 years that creates beautiful clothing [and still can’t quite understand why I intentionally cut holes in my jeans, but she has finally given up asking why with me 😂]. She does all the things. And she loves her family fiercely. And her love language is constantly trying to feed us all the food.

And there is so much more she is capable of and so much she still wants to accomplish. Tonight she said to me “I’m a dreamer, and I constantly think, what I want to do tomorrow and next month, and next year… and I’m so old, but I still have so much I want to do and learn”.

She has many stories to tell. So many memories. I swear, she remembers things that happened 75 years ago and I can’t remember what I did last week.

I wonder, had she been born in another time, with more freedom as a woman, as the dreamer she is, who knows what she would have created, though, she has created a lot despite those societal barriers.… and there is so much more I don’t know, because for years I couldn’t get past my resentment and fear and bring myself to stand close enough to her to witness. This is something I am actively working to change.

I realize that I have always wanted in theory to be close with her, but felt blocked. And the cool thing is, that now, as her and I both get more honest about life and the way things were and the way they are different now, we are slowly but surely meeting each other, really for the first time. And it feels different. It feels, still a little uncomfortable, but full of potential. 

I couldn’t meet her in this space— a space of openness and receptivity— until I got out of my own way. And I also needed to speak things to her, that aren’t easy for me. But because I have, and because it’s my truth, She accepts me as I am. And what I have found, is she is a better listener than I ever gave her credit for. We both needed to make amends for ways that we had projected out onto the other. And that is happening, one conversation at a time.

And now that I have let her know how stifling it is to have her projections of who she thinks I should be [based on who the world told her for years she needed to be as a woman], or what she thinks I should be worried about [as a result of her fears and worries], she gives me more space to breathe, and subsequently we both breathe a bit easier, and our conversations get a bit deeper; with more listening, more love— more trust.

I didn’t realize that so much of my frustration for all these years came from the feeling that everyone had this idea of who I was, but never really stopped and looked closely enough to see beneath the surface, never truly saw me or knew me. So there were a lot of assumptions, or a comfort in how I did show up, but it was never me. And that was the part that felt so lonely, so unsafe. And it goes both ways. But in finding me, I’m finding my way to connections within a space that I always have desired but never knew before how to bridge that gap. I didn’t realize that all it really requires is love and a willingness to be fully and unapologetically me and giving others the opportunity and loving space to do the same.

This is about my relationship with my grandmother. And it’s about a bigger, deeper healing that is taking place.

Women coming together, from different generations, remembering how to relate to one another. Sharing stories. Getting honest and raw about what it’s like being a woman in this world, and how that has shifted over time. Breaking down the acceptance of what we “should be grateful for” while the world has done its best to tame us, and bit by bit, shedding the false skin we’ve been wearing, so we can see the true beauty and magic of the wild, creative spark, the life force that lives in our bones and cannot be stripped from us.

Tonight I spent time with the matriarch of my family. We shared space, we talked about relationships— marriage, divorce, family; curiosities about what happens to us after we die and how the Holy Spirit [how she resonates] or Divine [as I prefer to refer to this big energy] lives through us; religion vs. spirituality; the challenges of being human.

A few tears were shed.

And I am feeling full— for this time was nourishing in a way that I can’t describe and I feel hopeful that I will get to know and share more, about the powerhouse of a woman packed in a 5”1’ frame, that is my grandma Maria.

***

Day 10/28: I don’t have much to say other than, i’m grateful for the unfolding that is happening in my life in this present season. It’s too much to describe, and i’m attempting to in these little daily chunks. And I can’t wait to look back on this at some time in the future and witness from the distance how much life can happen in such a short period of time if we are just willing to lean into our fears and take it all in. There is so much juice to this life in the seemingly small moments. I am grateful for this day, for your presence here; for how much is truly possible when we are willing to open ourselves to all that we don’t know. This. Life. Is. Wild. And beautiful. And messy AF. And magical.

Have a beautiful evening, beautiful humans… I’ll see you soon.

With gratitude and always LOVE,

why are you always leaving //

“Why are you always leaving me!”.

She screams. Silently. On the outside, she smiles, nods her head; mature acknowledgment of the greater purpose and lesson. Inside, fire. Just keep it together; don’t let them see your heart breaking.You have to be strong. You have to be understanding. You have to be gracious in the presence of pain and disappointment.

“But what about me!”, she demands.

“What about me?”, she asks softly; eyes cast down (don’t let them see you cry).

“Why are they always leaving?”

“Why does nobody stay to keep me safe?”

“What did I do wrong?”

Nothing little one, it was never about you. You are magic. In your kindness, your big, big love, your sensitivity, your pain and vulnerability. You don’t have to be strong. You can fall apart and fall down. I’ll be right here to pick you back up. I know this burden, heavy on your shoulders like 1,000 pounds of red brick; hot from baking in the sun; breaking your back, searing your skin.

I know it’s heavy.

I know it burns, deep.

I know little one.

You don’t have to be strong, but you are.

You don’t have to put on a brave face, or be good, or polite.

You can cry and scream and break; stomp around if you like.

You have permission to be big or small, to be loud or quiet; to be, You.

I know that weight is so, so heavy; why don’t you put it down here for a moment.

Rest your head on my shoulder; close your weary eyes.

I’ve got you, little one, I’m here.

-Conversations with my little Self; learning how to be here for Her, for Me, for Us.