How do you handle change? Life changes are inevitable. Even when we initiate change to support our greater good, sometimes it can bring up unexpected feelings that are difficult to process.
After the past two years, I don’t want to focus on what’s wrong with me or how I can be different. I want to enter the new year accepting myself for where I am at, taking care of myself, and having less shame about it all in the process.
It’s easy to want to point fingers at each other when there’s conflict in our interpersonal relationships. Our egos want there to be a bad guy without looking at the full context of our behaviors. Before we rush to cast blame, we can hold ourselves accountable. We’re human; we make mistakes.
Imagine a demon hag with sunken eyes, a deep black hooded cloak, and long boney fingers following me around, sounding alarm bells, and making me second-guess my every move. That’s how I pictured my anxiety and our lopsided relationship. Something needed to change.
Healing is uncomfortable.
This year I make my 30th trip around the sun. I’ve grown and changed in so many ways, taking shape as the person I need myself to be. I have to remind myself that, as scary as life can be, I am powerful and capable of tackling it all.
This blog has always been a safe space for me to reflect, create, and untangle some of the messiness in life, waiting for me when I felt compelled to do so. I truly did not anticipate you all being a part of this journey and touching me as deeply as you have. I started Muted Mouthful three years ago; that fact alone is incredible to me. I have grown so much; the evidence is all right here. This blog has become a living testament to me, something I can, and do, look back on, reflecting on the one inevitable thing in life, change.
My “best” looks a lot different right now. It’s not an old friend I recognize in a crowd. It’s a new friend, one that I am weary of, one that I am questioning, one that feels conflicting. My new best arrived during an incredibly unprecedented tumultuous time, one that my system has never experienced before. A time that does not have a clear end in sight.
I may not have been able to travel this year, but I found myself exploring places in my mind that I had not ventured before.
As a therapeutic exercise, I wrote a letter to my younger self, offering career advice and kindness on the long, professional road ahead that would await them. It was a reminder to myself to be compassionate about my choices and to keep my mind open to the possibilities we have yet to encounter.