Arrival

There's been a palpable change in me. Perhaps it is the weather, the arrival of spring. Perhaps it is the excitement of what's to come in the weather, in my life. Perhaps it is the resolutions I've kept; the reaching out to people, the taking care of myself, the choosing to be courageous rather than scared. Perhaps it is that I'm no longer hiding. Perhaps it is that I sat down and discovered I had 250 dollars worth of Borders gift cards and just spent the entirety of it in one trip. Perhaps it is the existence and availability of books and words as a whole. Perhaps it is that I've returned to this blog world. Perhaps it is the constant impulses to take out my journal and camera to record the beauty around me. Perhaps it is the conscious recognition of all of the beauty around me. Perhaps it is the casting aside of worry of what you will think of me as I stop in the middle of the street to remember this beauty. Perhaps it is the casting aside of worry of what you will think of me in general. Perhaps it is the decision I've made to be true to myself. Perhaps it is that I am learning to love my life.

Whatever the reason, as I strolled down the walkway to my apartment just now, arms filled with a new library of books, I thought, "I don't truly despise myself," which may seem like a small victory, but for me, speaks volumes about where I am right now. I cannot remember the last time I had such a thought. Certainly not since high school. I have loved my life, yes, but loving myself, loving who I am within my life, has been a far greater struggle. Reaching a level of self acceptance where I am not doubting my every move, feeling awkward in every situation, reveling in the should haves and could haves, is something new for me. Something deliciously, magically, amazingly new.

And I am so happy - that bursting, beaming, shouting, jumping, dancing, singing, glowing, smiling, laughing, hugging, kissing, loving, exalting kind of happy. Each day I assume it will end, as most good moods eventually (and I once believed, inevitably) do, and each day it only continues to grow. And there is no rhyme or reason to it other than those small delights I've listed above, those small steps I've taken towards joy. There is no derivation of such exuberance except for my own creation of it, a thought that in and of itself is reason enough to celebrate.

I have created my own kind of joy. I have created a life that I want for myself, a life that I have dived into head first, hoping to drown in its offerings of light. I have learned how to make myself happy. I have learned to listen to the whisperings of my wild spirit. I have let them become bellowing yawps of self expression. I have allowed myself to break down the nagging of my inner critic and nurture the blossoming garden of my poetic soul. I have been creative. I have been confident. I have been the person I always knew I could be - should be - if only I could let go. I have let go.

I have released the worry, the doubt, the insecurity. I have drowned out the voices telling me "no" and "can't" and "shouldn't." I have embraced the here, the present, the now. And in letting go, in not letting any opinions of who I am matter, I have discovered within myself the kind of person I could someday learn to love. I have discovered the kind of artistic, creative, outgoing, honest, loving, REAL woman I have always looked up to. I have discovered me.

I have felt more like myself these past few weeks than ever before. I have felt comfortable with my definition, with my place in the world. I have felt like I could be this person forever, and more importantly, that I could be happy with such an idea. I have felt this palpable change in me, and I have felt the boundless jubilance of its arrival.