If one thing 2020 brought into my life that is precious is the fact that I learned to love me. This is something I wish everybody would learn at an early age and fortunately a lot of people do. But it took me a little longer because I spent so much time trying to fit a circle into a square that left so many areas unfilled. I never had the perfect lines and it was a struggle to pretend that I did. I'm writer and I always wanted to be free to express my soul on paper..
In the past I have tolerated me, I have pampered me. I have made it possible for others to love and like me. In the mist of all this I got bogged down in presenting a me that I didn't truly appreciate.
I've always presented myself as this superwoman when in actuality I've struggled with insecurities all my life.I've always been crowded with assisting others finding themselves, job requirements, family obligations, community projects, church commitments that required so much of my time that I was too tired to focus on me.. Not to mention the fact that when I would mention my desire to be a writer little encouragement was given.
However, 2020 and the pandemic forced me to spend time with just me. It was a little uncomfortable at first and I tried to fill my time with doing other projects, taking on new stuff but eventually it came down to just spending time with myself. It was doing this time that I realized that there's a greatness in me that no one else has to recognize but me. I am who I am. And I think I really embraced the idea during the pandemic of being fearlessly and wonderfully made. I realized that I don't need confirmation of this fact by anyone else but God.
I also came to the conclusion that I am a writer from the top of my head to the soul of my feet. There are stories to be told, opinions to be shared and words of encouragement that can be given only by me. If I keep them to myself then when I die, they die also. But if I put them on paper they will live forever. What I have inside of me does not belong to me but to the universe.