Today I showed up.
I don’t show up every day.
Some days I have the capacity to show up but my body and soul revert against me.
Other days I have every intention to show up but forget to leave everything else behind, forget it takes work, forget it requires blood.
The other day I purposefully held myself back, as to say, I’ve come this far… You do the rest.
I remember one time showing up and telling myself the whole time that I didn’t deserve to be there.
More often than not, showing up gets lonely. And on those days I would almost prefer to spiral out of control, to elevate my ego and resurrect my pride.
One thing that remains the same, regardless of me showing up or cowering down, is fear. Fear of stepping up day by day, climbing, and persevering only to lose all my efforts, only to stain them with the insincere version of healing I’ve convinced myself is able to plant roots.
But today, despite what may be the truth and in between all the lies, I found the courage to show up, to be here, and to belong to something real. To belong to the journey and the failure. To accept that there isn’t one without the other.
Yesterday my thoughts were flooded with self-hate.
Today, I showed up in all my glory, in all my imperfection. Today I trusted not in how I felt or how I would get where I’m going but in what I needed to be true:
You aren’t alone. You are loved. Your destination will never be here, so enjoy the journey.
Today I enjoyed my individual journey, tomorrow I hope to do the same.
Miss Parisia B.