My New Twenties...

Somewhere in the deep I have begun to wake up from a slumber. I have begun to look at the world in new ways.

My children are now grown up adults capable enough to manage themselves.

I have begun to realize there is more to life than the chores I have been endlessly doing since early 20s. I have spent my whole life trying to give myself to something outside of myself. I have spent so much time and energy on others, trying to prove my existence, that I forgot about myself along the way.

Time for myself was not even on my radar at any point. I had to accomplish so much and I have.

So I gave. I gave more than I realized.

And I began to realize I have been giving to everyone but myself.

It is around this time that I started looking inward. I started to wonder what my passions were and what interests I had. Sure I probably took some time for things I enjoyed over the last few years—but more to escape the craziness of households than real passions that made my heart sing.

Who am I? What drives me? What makes my heart smile?—All questions have become important in my mind. I start to venture into these conversations with friends.

What I see inside myself sometimes scares me. This strong desire to become more conscious about what drives me is bigger now than I have ever allowed it to be. I also get mad at myself for allowing my passion to just sit for all these years. I also get scared at just how strong that desire is. And sometimes I have no clue at all as  what my passions were, are.

This is awakening.

People on the outside looking at me might call this a midlife crisis rather than an awakening. I myself might refer to this as a crisis and not an awakening.

A crisis is defined as an unstable or even a dangerous situation where I feel unsteady in a world that I know so well, a world where I had all the rules and schedules figured out. Then, it seems, all that changes overnight. I am awakening to these strange sensations I am experiencing. I am starting to recognize or become aware of something stirring in me. Something deep and real inside of me.

When I was going through my separation, I was told I was just having a midlife crisis. It will be fine, I was told. And they were right, because I felt anything but like I was in crisis mode. I felt alive and free for the first time in I don’t know how many years! I felt like I was waking up from some deep slumber I didn’t know I had been in. I could feel my desires and passion stretching like they had been sleeping for centuries. Reaching up and out. Flexing their muscles. Screaming at me to be heard.

This all happened around that age. So maybe that age was the new 20. Maybe it was the time in my life that I should realize that I am an important part of society—not to leave my marks, but to discover what gifts I have to offer.

I found softer ways to let society know I have something to offer:

Myself.

I may look selfish to the younger generation and my kids because I am finally taking time for me. I am no longer feeling the need to manage schedules. I am doing everything for enjoyment and not escape. I am waking to all the possibilities of what I have and who I am.

I am ready to start and live my new 20s…hic..hic..

Be the rock…..

Beaten down and exhausted. Not only physically, but mentally too. Tired of holding, not only my life together, but everyone else’s. Drained and sad because I am conditioned to stay strong.

But who do I break to? Who do I fall to? Who do I call?

I fall to myself. I turn to the only one who has stayed by my side through everything—that is the beautiful woman looking back at me in the mirror. I am my backbone. I am my strength. That’s the hardest part about being a strong woman. Everyone expects us to have our shit together.

They turn to me when their world has gone dark. And they look to me when it seems as if all hope is lost. But I must be strong. I can’t show my fear. I can’t express the scared, tired, little girl that is hiding inside me, so I suffer. All while holding the world up as if I am some type of superwoman.

I suffer because I sacrifice every ounce of my being to make sure my people are cared for—that they’re happy—that I can be who they count on. But who holds me up? Sometimes it’s all too much. Sometimes all I want to do is break down.

Well, strong woman, break down. It is okay. It is okay for you to be broken. It is perfectly acceptable to break and cry in the middle of the day. It is perfectly okay to not recognize who you are. To feel lost, to be alone, scared, and terrified. It is, simply, just okay. You are allowed to break down. You are allowed to feel the pain, and you are allowed to feel like you cannot go on another day.

Once I have shattered, once I have cried and that Chambor kajal has smudged around my dry eyes, it is time to pick myself up —because I am the strong one. I am to hold my army up. I am the one to keep moving; people look to me for my strength and hope in life. I am the rock - whether I chose to be or not. Whether I see my influence or not. I am who my people look to. My experiences may have chiselled my heart, built my walls, guarded my trust in people’s actions and words. They may have shaped my demeanour, but regardless, those experiences have allowed my people to trust in me.

People are given a personal journey in life before they are born, and mine was to be strong. I have fought battles I did not want to fight. I have sacrificed things I should not have sacrificed. And I have, unfortunately, given up parts of myself to protect my people.

But you are human, my sweet, strong woman. You are alive. And you must remind yourself that you are allowed to feel. You are allowed to fight on, but you are more than allowed to just break down. But you must keep dancing and you must keep moving along.

There are beautiful things ahead for me. There are adventures with my name on it. And there is someone waiting for me. There is someone who is ready to, finally, be my rock. They are waiting to be my strong one. Ahhhhh……

But for now, forgive yourself for carrying the weight of everyone else. Just show up for yourself. Be your own warrior. Stop searching and find it within yourself.

I do not need these humans like I need my beautiful, soulful self. But they are waiting. They are ready to be my tissue, when I cry those cries. And they are ready to be my pillow when I fall.

Life sucks sometimes. But it is also a beautiful thing, as long as I let myself see it.

Find the beauty. Find the light. And just keep moving.

Be your rock, but don’t forget to let yourself fall.

Just don’t forget about you. You beautiful, crazy, strong, sensual, caring human.

You, strong woman, are what make this life beautiful. You are what everyone needs in their life. You are the reason for the sun, the moon, and the earth. You make the wind dance and the thunder crack. You are a force to be reckoned with, and you are strong like the waves of the fiercest storm. But you are also as fragile as the wings of a butterfly. You need time to feel and be reminded that you do not need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You are human. So feel it. Let it break you. Cry. But remember to breathe. Breathe it in, and let it all go.

Just don’t forget to stand back up.