What I'm learning...

this week is that scars are important.

"In a futile attempt to erase our past, we deprive the community of our healing gift. If we conceal our wounds out of fear and shame, our inner darkness can neither be illuminated nor become a light for others." --Brennan Manning

Lately, I've really been trying to simplify.

To get back to the basics.

To discover myself and forgive myself

without a bunch of junk in the way.

I'm finally taking the time to work through things that I've pushed under the rug for awhile.

Feelings I've had about myself, feelings I've had about others.

Pain from past situations and pain from how I feel about myself.

I'm learning that loving yourself is maybe one of the hardest things.

And that dealing with all those things that you have quietly ignored can really exhaust you.

But at the end of the day, I would rather be able to understand the darkness inside of me than to avoid it.

While I certainly always wish I didn't have to experience painful situations or have my heart broken or get hurt, it allows me to relate to others in a way that isn't possible without that pain.

At the moment, I'm healing on my own, but maybe I can share this healing with someone later.

I've been realizing how much anger and bitterness I've been feeling the past few years.

Emotions that never used to be a part of my vocabulary.

I think they've been important emotions to experience, but not a place that I want to stay in.

I can't keep holding onto the anger towards others and the anger towards myself for not being perfect.

I can't keep being bitter about things that are out of my control.

I can see now how deeply this has affected many of my relationships, friendships and feelings about who I am. 

At this point, there is nothing more I can do but move forward.

Not forgetting the scars and not trying to erase them.

But realizing that they will bring me to a better place.

They have made me a wiser, kinder, gentler human being.

They've allowed me to connect with others on a deeper level.

They remind me that I am not perfect and finally, I think that is okay.

I feel like I've been saying for the past few years, 

"This isn't me. This isn't normally how I act or what I think or how I feel." 

But I've come to terms that it was me.

It was not the "me" I wanted.

It was a hard kind of "me" to be.

It wasn't very pretty sometimes.

And I wasn't very happy with myself.

But it made me more "me" than I have ever been.

So, while this post may seem very vague,

I hope in some sense you can connect with it.

I just know now that the scars don't define me, but they've made me.