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Story of a Woman

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Story of a Woman

I’m only 25 years old and still discovering who I am. I was afraid of what might happen when I left my husband. I had no idea who I was or how to live alone when I wasn’t in a relationship. I felt so disoriented and it was terrifying. I spent months learning about myself and my goals. I’m still looking because I think that even as adults, we never really know who we are. I understood that I had spent my entire life concealing a part of me. Growing up in the church made coming out terrifying and difficult. Growing up, I was informed that Being anything other than straight was such a sin, and I would spend the rest of my life in purgatory as a result. When I was 25 years old, I told my parents I was gay. I picked up the phone, called my mother, and broke down in tears as I said, “I’m queer.” Although I was aware of my parents’ willingness to help, I still found it difficult to be so openly and honestly vulnerable. Since then, I’ve gradually begun to be more true to myself and stop hiding aspects of who I am merely to appease others’ petty opinions.

I feel more like myself now than I ever did at age 25. I’ve learnt how to speak out for myself and use my voice. I’ve gotten better at sticking to my principles, , and that a phrase might be made up of the word “No.” I have learnt to say no when I am too exhausted to help anymore and have taken a step back from my people-pleasing tendencies. I have spent my entire life advocating for self care but have never actually done it. Don’t get me wrong, I would spend my free time binge-watching my favourite television episodes in bed, but I wouldn’t engage in activities that would replenish my energy, leaving me continually depleted. I’ve discovered that it’s acceptable to engage in activities that bring you joy, love, and wonderment. It’s acceptable to have days when you don’t feel like doing anything since you just woke up, took a shower, and breath and made the decision to continue. Humans have a propensity to only highlight the positive aspects of our lives while hiding the unpleasant details. But the truth is, life is complicated. NO ONE’S life is as perfect as they represent it to be, and I mean NO ONE. I’ve felt behind in life for the most of my life while gazing at social media images of “perfect” individuals. How could I possibly catch up, I would ask myself repeatedly. I’ve discovered that life is not a race; you may go at your own pace because your only rival is you. You are the only competitor you have left, and that way of thinking has pretty much saved my life.

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Life is messy, but that’s what can make it fun.

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