Your best is enough. That’s true. Your okayest is also enough. Your best on your worst day is enough. Your best that you can muster when you feel like everything is closing in is enough. Your best doesn’t have to mean the best you’ve ever offered. It’s the best you can offer in this moment. You can only do what you can do. Be gracious with yourself.
I’m glad you’re here.
There is beauty in this world. I know how often it can feel like there isn’t. I know the feeling of the world closing in, but friend, I promise you the world is beautiful. Each sunrise, rainfall, bloom, snowfall, breath. Friend, the world is beautiful. I know, because you are in it.
I’m glad you’re here.
Friend, some people will not support your survival. Some people will not want to understand your decisions. I have really good news. You aren’t doing it for them. You continue because you want to continue. You fight because you want to be here, and friend, I think that’s amazing.
I’m glad you’re here.
Trust yourself. No one knows better for you than you do. That’s important.
I’m glad you’re here.
Friend, life is hard and confusing and some times cruel. It’s also beautiful. Surround yourself in the good today.
I’m glad you’re here.
You are strong. You are so much stronger than you realize. I only wish for your sake you did not have to keep proving this to yourself. We never feel strong when things feel like they’re crashing around us, but you continue to come out on the other side. Friend, that’s amazing. You continue to come out on the other side. You continue.
I’m glad you’re here.
Warrior, some days the fight never ends, the fight for your survival, for a voice, to be heard, to be understood. Those fights seem endless, and maybe they are. I can’t promise they aren’t. So let yourself rest. You’re already so strong, but you’re so much stronger when you take care of your body and mind. It is okay to rest. Whatever that looks like, whatever form it is you need. Let yourself rest, and when you’re ready, get up and continue the fight, warrior.
I’m glad you’re here.
Friend, you’re amazing. You’re still here, and that is incredible. You’ve fought and struggled and overcome so much to be right here right now. That’s amazing. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Who’s to say what is next for you, but right now looks pretty fantastic.
I’m glad you’re here.
Eight years ago today I was sexually assaulted for the first time. Eight years ago today I was betrayed to the highest degree by two of my friends. Eight years ago today my whole life changed, my whole being changed.
Until eight years ago I was an extrovert. I was carefree (some times careless). I was trusting. I loved doing things on my own in the wild. I went to movies and dinner and parties alone.
Here I am eight years later, and honestly, it’s okay if the sentence stops there. Because despite numerous assaults since then, so much fear, so much anxiety, barely holding it together through loudly spoken staff meetings, I am still here. Some days that’s a hard, hard thing to want to be, but I am still here.
That’s not something I say, because I demand to be appreciated. I’m telling you, because I think it’s remarkable. I shouldn’t be. I’ve so often not wanted to be, but here I am.
Yes, I am guarded. I am, I admit, paranoid. I am often terrified to be in the world. Some days I’m terrified to be in my home. Nonetheless, I have been loved and supported and carried. I know many do not feel that. I know that I am so fortunate to have such amazing people in my life, and I know I couldn’t have gotten this far without them. I also know that I’ve done the work. That when it comes to it, in the middle of the night when I feel myself falling apart, it’s me and my mind alone in the dark, and I continue to conquer the lies. I continue to outlast the things that live in the dark spaces in my head.
It’s okay to be struggling with these things, because ya know what? It’s fucking hard. Survival is so hard. In a month I’m going on the first vacation of my adult working life, and that’s incredible, because four years ago I’d have never been able to make a plan two months in advance. When you’re trying to survive, when every day your only focus is just to get through the damn day, you don’t have the luxury of planning ahead. The furthest a plan goes is the next breath.
Eight years ago my life changed, and eight years later I’m still here.
Friend, some people, some lives seem to take more work than others. That’s okay. You’re not a lazy person. You’ve clawed and struggled and scraped, and still you are here. That’s incredible. People around you may appear stable or like they have it all figured out, but it’s possible they simply don’t want to put the work in and are content to be miserable. You, friend, are not content being miserable. You continue to work to live and to grow, and that, friend, is a beautiful thing.
I’m glad you’re still here.
A Broad Abroad 