dear life, I love you so

A couple of months ago, you were draining to me, tiring.

I was stuck between timelines, spending time with people who drained me, taking responsibility for everyone around me, trying to make life as comfortable as possible for them.

I was merely surviving.

I remember going to acupuncture, then rushing to pick up my daughter from a place that didn’t feel nourishing and going back to an apartment that was beautiful and big yet always felt tight.

Stuck between random texts from my ex aka her co-creator “Can I talk to her today?”

no structure, no foundation, just contact on his own desire, not hers, not mine.

Trying to soothe my parents, who never learned to heal their broken hearts from their own childhood trauma.

I thought being a good mum meant being a good ex, a good daughter, a good friend.

Good to people who had never looked in the mirror and seen someone they loved.

And I burned out in a life I never wanted to live.

I never wanted to explain to my daughter why daddy doesn’t pick her up from kindergarten every day.

Never wanted to explain why most kids around her were white with straight hair.

Never wanted to see my abusive parents nearly daily.

Never wanted to be stuck in a small town where the options were to study or to struggle.

I hated that life. I was carrying so much weight that wasn’t mine.

It took depression to make me realize: there is something else.

So I became brave again. I changed.

The people I used to comfort now hit up my phone. I don’t answer.

I remembered: I don’t owe anyone anything.

But if I truly wanted to do well in life, if I wanted my daughter to have a chance at joy, success, and softness: I owed myself.

I owed my inner child to build boundaries in the face of abuse.

I owed myself to stop comforting those who stay stuck in victimhood.

I owed myself the pursuit of my desires.

I owed myself a life I was exited to get up and life in the morning.

So I started to live again.

On a random Tuesday I wondered where in the world receiving my desires would feel the easiest.

Marseille came up so I packed my bags, left my apartment with my daughter and took her on a little pretty wild adventure.

I gave her the dog I always dreamed of as a child.

I remembered that there was a place in the world where I felt wide open, alive.

So I moved back.

I took her out of the white supremacist kindergarten.

I remembered that I was born to dance, to write, to help, to create, to express.

So I began shaping a career around it.

And now here I am.

Nine months later.

Living in a beautiful apartment.

Close to a field so inviting, so light.

My daily interactions give me energy instead of draining me.

I wake up dancing most days.

My daughter is about to go to a kindergarten where softness is honoured,

where colourful skin is normal.

We move lightly between Neukölln and Kreuzberg.

I’m surrounded by families who do things differently, kind dog owners, multiple cultures, people who love and live art, movement, culture, cute cafés.

Man, I’m finally home. Again.

I stopped waiting for people to treat me better.

I stopped explaining how I should be treated and simply started treating myself well.

I stopped dragging along adults who could stand on their own feet.

I stopped compromising.

The path was lonely for a while.

It meant saying no to relationships and support that might have been okay in the moment, but draining to my soul.

Now here I am,

nine months later,

after many brave decisions.

I paid rent from a job I booked simply by being 100% myself.

No casting, no updated pictures just a direct book.

And I know this is only the beginning.

The beginning of a life that naturally attracts my desires.

The beginning where breathing in what nourishes me comes easy: deep connection, truth, art, beauty, depth, healing, family, stability, love, movement, ease.

My heart feels light. My sleep is deep.

And:

I stopped waiting on anyone to save me.

I started to save myself.

And now I’m ready to receive all the people

who have also saved themselves

from lives that were far too small

to hold their intense, bright,

expansive beings in the first place.