confessing freedom

confession: after sending out a plea for help, i received help in the form of emails, text messages, hugs, and dances. thank you. the help offered was exactly what i needed, without knowing exactly what to ask for. thank you for helping me.

confession: many realizations have lit up my consciousness this week. at the center of each realization is a call and an answer to love myself.

confession: i feel free. i feel grateful. i feel loved. i’m doing my best to steep my cells in this freedom, gratitude, and love so that the next time i feel frightened, hurt, or hopeless that my cells will sing a ceaseless whispering reminder of my freedom, gratitude, and love.

confession: on most days, i play a healing mantra prayer song on repeat. while the angelic voice sings a cappella in the background of my daily activity, the quietest, calmest, and wisest part of my brain silently sings along.

confession: i now have a 12-step sponsor. i need her assistance and guidance because i can not trust my judgment about aspects of my addiction to pain. she has established direct boundaries for my behaviors. my mind tries to negotiate outside these boundaries. my heart knows to follow them.

confession: my life is on-hold until after my right kidney is removed. i will feel better once that surgery is scheduled and i can set my expectations for feeling better after a three-week recovery.

confession: my therapist emphasized to me that i have to protect my nieces from the abuse i endured as a child. i’m afraid to have that conversation with my brother or sister-in-law for fear of their reaction. therefore, i’ve hesitated. that conversation is too important to procrastinate.

confession: i learned this factoid a few weeks ago–the average age for the onset of sexual abuse is 5 years old. guess how old i was when the abuse began? regarding my sexual abuse history and its long-term consequences, i am extraordinarily average.

confession: i forget to breathe.

confession: i forget that i’m safe now. at least in my own home, i am safe. i wasn’t safe in the relationship that just ended. i wasn’t safe in his home. i wasn’t safe in the home where i grew up. but i am safe in my own home. i need to let myself feel safe at home. it is okay for me to stay home whenever i feel too vulnerable to step outside my front door.

confession: when i go to my boy best friend’s home, i like to eat his leftover macaroni and cheese. there are certain things about him that make other things more fun, taste better, and feel sweeter. i love him more all the time. he loves me perfectly. people don’t understand our connection and often misperceive the nature and essence of our “us-ness.” that’s okay. with him, every little thing is alright.

confession: i want to help you, if i can. i’m not sure what i can do, but in my not-knowing, i give you my truth, i write my experience, and i open my heart to love you unconditionally.


About angel joy

love is an action verb. i live love in action.
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