The great loneliness is a perfect description of what I have traversed in the past year.
I give no apologies to my new friends because even though they were ever present, they were the beginnings. The scary uncertain, the “Will they like me?” kind of beginnings.
I slowly lost those who held me in their intimacy.
Truth be told, that intimacy was a lie. Even to myself. I had no clue the woman that lived beneath this skin and though I had been told before that I was beautiful, I only felt it in the surface and my fear was that I would wake up one day having lost it all. To old age, to an accident, to someone who simply liked blondes more than brunettes. My worth swam in the shallowness of words like pretty.
It was sickening and I felt it pull me down every second of every day until I decided having feelings towards other human beings was not worth the pain it caused as they spewed kind words that only saw me as the chameleon that I was.
Because I not only lived on the surface, I lived in the nice. Who was I if I was not well liked? Do you have a problem? Let me fix it for you. Do you need a place to lay your weary feet? Let me lie down for you.
All of this is not the pouting of a misused nor abused girl. While that may have occurred at an earlier time, the woman who wore the mask on the outside of me chose these actions, finding the comfort in the settled happiness of the friends and family and even strangers who occupied my space.
The mask got heavy so one day I finally took it off. I still don’t know what made that day the day where my strength grew enough to speak my truth. Or what little I knew of my truth. Yet underneath my mask was a rawness that can only be formed by years of suppression and it being self-imposed only made it hurt worse.
Then everyone whom I thought would stand with me, who would help heal my wounds, decided that the mask I wore was the person they truly loved. Not the girl who was always hiding underneath.
Loneliness settled in.
Yet Goddess and God continued to provide to all of my needs. Each time I broke and felt as if I could not take another breath through the snot and tears, that I would suffocate in my own mess, I managed to wake up the next day. Puffy eyed and slightly hungover at times, but with these new people who saw me and brought me light. They would ask such questions as, “Are you okay? Do you want to hang out?” And even listen to my ramblings and rants about those whom I felt abandoned me at my most needed time.
And it happened. Feelings returned. I fell in love again. A different kind. One that came with no attachment, no expectation and not directed towards those required relationships you are born into.
Acknowledging it almost killed me but I managed to say it out loud.
Today I sit with my new found freedom. And even though I struggle with unconditional self-love, I know it is there. I even have true friends who have seen me in all my mess and still manage to show me I am worth it. My value lives not in what I do but in who I am. Understanding the simpleness in those two words is my next adventure. This is the year of I am.

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