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Catching-Up-Reflection-Post: Defeat and Recovery

I used to have a blog on Wordpress: Justbreathejasmine.wordpress.com. I’d write a monthly reflection posts on lessons I’ve learned from my experiences and stories that impacted me. I wrote about the moment an open wound was poked, and immediately healed the past pain. Unfortunately, I deleted that blog and placed metaphorical duct tape over my hands and lips.

                My mission statement is: To encourage others to reclaim their story and protect their shine. How did/do I go about pursuing that mission? By leaking my own story to inspire others to share their own- as well as pursue authenticity.  I lost sight of that mission and buried myself. I hid.

I’ve returned and will continue where I left off.

 The first half of 2017, I ceased pursuing my passions and dreams. I was incognito. I consumed myself in a connection out of imaginary obligation and unhealthy loyalty. I lost weight and ignored the warnings and urgencies my close friends continuously sputtered my way. I don’t remember the exact day my breaking point or Aha moment happened.

But, I know when the summer 2017 arrived, something clicked. I DO remember thinking to myself:

I’ve compromised and lost so much of my power.  

It finally hit me that I was a phoenix in unnecessary flames. I  astonished at how I allowed myself to get there I couldn’t  even scream from the burning.

I opened my eyes to the destination I allowed myself to walk in and simply called it the shit valley it was. I went to counseling from February to August consistently and wrote in my journal. I addressed the embarrassment I felt when thinking about how I allowed myself to be treated poorly. I accepted self-forgiveness and the current situation I was in.  I re-centered, forgave myself, let go of various habits, people and experiences immediately. I released the juicy pieces of my life that hindered the fuck out of my journey. Suga, I was releasing. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t hot bubble baths and a stroll through nature.

 The latter half of 2017, I opened up to beautiful things, people and experiences that I was petrified to receive initially. I was an eggling phoenix feeding myself good things, people and life.  

2018 I recovered, re-discovered, released and slowed down. However, the ending of 2017 to the middle of 2018, I had this feeling. I couldn’t label it for a while. I knew that it caused me to hesitate and hide more than I already did.  It made me feel as though I should remain in the background- a place I told myself in 2016 that I wouldn’t return to.

I felt defeated.

I was hurting something heavy and gnawing.

As time passed in 2018, I refused to be idle (yes I did rest). I wrote, I read, laughed, hung out, traveled and timidly pursued my passions. But, there was this twinge of pain knocking on the back door of my heart and I refused to answer it.

I was hurting from 2017. I was aching from compromising myself. I was still embarrassed by the way I allowed myself to be treated and how I appeased someone’s insecurities instead of glowing in my authenticity.

Sometimes, you can’t put your finger on what your feeling, but damn it, you can taste it and it can be bitter as fuck. I tasted anger. I tasted resentment and shame. I tasted it all and finally spat it out. I don’t need it.

                In the midst of planting fresh seeds in 2018, I was pulling out weeds and letting silence carry tears I couldn’t find the sources to. I just let them fall into the nothingness, hoping time would help me forget what I obviously didn’t want to face. Memories would flash in my mind from 2017 and I would slap a cliché affirmation before even feeling the memories’ residue.

2018 was a beautiful year of recovery, new beginnings and healing. However, that feeling of defeat and tucked in hurt, slowed me down during the first half of last year.

  I had to choose: Let the feelings hold me back or go forward despite the ache? Thankfully, I chose the latter. When flashbacks hit my mind like delayed online payments, I felt them. I let the anger overtake me, the sadness flood me- then I let it pass. Although I did this healing process solo, I did it with the perseverance of my Grandma and straightforwardness of my Mother.   

Towards the 2nd half of 2018, I opened my heart fully to love (familial, friends and romantically), which brought me to the reality: Victory is already here.

I was loved and I am loved in such a way that reminds me of who I was before the ache…and to appreciate the lessons after the wounds. There is still residue left of 2017, but it does not cease my soaring, it does not hinder my luscious feathers from shining. Certain things can only be healed with time honestly. I will be patient with myself and allow no one to rush this process. Not even myself.

2018, I fell in love with my dreams and goals again. I laced up my sneakers continued my race towards what I want to do in life.

I’m still learning, loving and living. I continue to write, dance in my room and utilize my voice. One day at a time.

Long Live Phoenixes. For Real.

Photo Credit: Miss Reign Productions