From the outside, this trip looked like another fun trip to Italy. For me, this was so much more. It’s the first time in a long period of time that I chose myself. Made time for myself. To be with myself. Alone. Just me, my body, my thoughts, my emotions, my being. There were thoughts of ‘What if I feel lonely?’, ‘What if I get anxious?’, ‘What if I don’t like being alone?’ And there it was. Loneliness knocked on the door. Someone I had been avoiding for so long. Someone I didn’t want to pick up the phone for. And instead of leaving the door closed, I invited him in as a friend. I took him by the hand wherever I went. To see a museum. To watch the eclipse. To walk the beautiful streets of Firenze. To read a book. To eat pasta. To drink a well-deserved Campari Spritz (or two). He sat with me at the table. Staring me in the eyes. For all the times he was overlooked.
For all the times he wasn’t allowed to be there.
For all the times he felt too heavy to let in. For the first time, I was able to let him in. A pain that only asked to be loved. To be seen. He asked for kindness. I can’t express the gratitude I feel for living the life I’m living. I love my friends. I love my job. I love my family. I love life. I love the warmth that surrounds me, the kindness I experience every day, the magic that happens all around me. And for the first time, I’m able to see that I’m the one who built this safe space. The amazing people.
The beautiful places.
The magical things. I got to see that I love myself. For who I am. A wholeness through all the perfect imperfections. To everybody who is part of this beautiful journey: thank you. For always being there for me.
For seeing me for me.
For showing me what unconditional love feels like. For just being you. You know who you are. From tomorrow, I’ll pick up everyday life again. But with a bit more tenderness. 🫶🏼