What I've Always Wanted.
I'm a bit of a wallower. I'm not particularly proud of this trait, but there it is. I envy folks who can react to trauma with a witty retort and/or angry outburst. I collapse in an effort to make myself a smaller, less prominent target. I've found that I've used this method as a means to keep myself closed off, protected from future attacks. These days, I can see that logic in it, but see how it has kept me from truly living, as well.
Thus, I have begun to leave myself open, running toward the eye of the storm rather than attempting to find shelter. It's downright terrifying at times because I am going against every instinct I've ever known and every worry I've ever constructed. Almost daily, I am facing one of my worst-case-scenarios, willing myself to really see my life as it truly is and not how I've longed for it to be.
Another reason to get my act together? This little gal right here.
The secret I'm discovering, though, is that each time I do this, each time I take in the fullness of my reality, it gets a tiny bit easier. It's a muscle I'm not used to flexing, so I'm trying to give myself grace, but I can feel the growth happening. As I let go of the tangible items I thought I needed in order to live a successful life—bags, shoes, clothes, furniture—I'm an open vessel for the intangibles I've always wanted: strength, wisdom, joy, courage, faith, gratitude, humility, self-respect, love.