Over the past several months (maybe even years) I’ve learned a lot about myself. Discovering kink has a way of doing that to you.
When anxiety and depression hit, much of it made me question if I was the person I thought I was. Every definitive thought I had about myself was followed with a “But what about when…” Because for every belief I have of myself, I also have at least one example when that wasn’t completely true. Throw in a dash of anxiety and depression, and at some point, I stopped trusting myself.
How can I be a relatively well-adjusted, healthy human being if I lie to myself?
That was the question I kept asking over and over again. The complications and the paradoxes I saw within myself felt like half-truths and misunderstandings. I wondered if I knew myself at all.
I’m not lying to myself. I’m much more complicated than I wanted to admit.
Almost every night I write in a journal as a way to empty my mind of the day’s clutter. It’s the last thing I do before bed.
Last night, in a spurt of self-realization, I wrote a list of things I know about myself, and I wanted to share it. Why? Because the idea of pretending to be any one thing is exhausting. I am who I am, contradictions and all. We all are.
I think I understand myself a little bit better…
I want certainty but know little of that exists — and I accept that (mostly).
I want structure and routine until it feels stifling.
I love having goals and working toward them except when I’m exhausted.
Taking a break for a weekend or a week doesn’t make me lazy.
I don’t want to be around people except for the ones I like or the ones who intrigue me.
I’m a writer – even on the days I don’t write.
Not every project in my life requires a deadline.
I’m still anxious, nervous, SCARED most of the time but if I can think about things rationally, I’ll be okay.
Sometimes I need to say, “Fuck the routine” and do something different.
Sometimes I will be low energy and out of sorts – it’s not a crisis when this happens.
If I go into a manic phase and then a depressed one, I can recover from it. My recovery rate has been 100 percent so far.
I’m a dreamer and it’s okay to include the small, silly luxuries in my dreams. They don’t make me materialistic. That’s just my babygirl showing.
Part of my thought process is to come up with a million ideas or solutions. I need to let myself do that and then, do nothing if none of them feel right. The answer will come to me in its own time. I simply need to trust the cosmic process.
I’m a mess.
Because I see the “other side” of nearly any situation, it’s hard to take an opinionated stand. I don’t have to do that with everything, and when I do, I only need to believe it for myself.
Kindness and respect matter to me. A lot of people will disappoint me (they already do). I can remember that’s a reflection of them, not me.
I’m no nonsense.
I want to be cuddled, coddled, and spoiled.
I need to prove I can do things on my own.
I like control and doing things my own way.
My way works for me, and that’s all that matters.
I can be lead – but only by someone I trust and respect.
I’m both impatient and infinitely patient.
My kids are becoming good people and I helped in some mysterious way.
I have strong opinions.
I give the benefit of the doubt, just in case.
I listen to my intuition.
I overthink things.
I procrastinate all the time.
I get shit done.
I need to trust in myself more because I get shit done.
I’m a writer who’s making a decent living at it.
I want to be more financially successful but not at the expense of my mental health.
I hate teams.
I’m good at teamwork.
I am starting to not care that people who know my real name don’t know about my personal and professional successes.
I still care that the people who do know about those successes don’t know my real name.
I have the ability to share what I’ve learned and my experience in a clear way that people relate to.
I produce a podcast people like.
People trust me with their secrets. I am honored and humbled. I’m worthy of their trust.
I will continue to be worthy of people’s trust.
I never forget that I might be wrong.
I refuse to believe I know everything.
Others have more to teach me than I have to teach them, even if they don’t realize it.
I hate drama and bullshit.
I adore gossip and secrets.
I don’t care.
I’m loud and silly.
I think too much and don’t want to talk.
I love sharing ideas.
I have plenty of questions.
I just want to listen.
My resting bitch face is intimidating.
My smile is huge.
I both love and hate my body.
If any of these things sound like affirmations it’s because they are, kind of. I’ve spent so long questioning myself, doubting myself, and wondering who I really am. The problem was that I thought I could only be one thing or do things onea certain way, when in reality, people are much more complicated than that. No one else has to relate or agree with a thing I’ve written. This isn’t for that. I’ve already affirmed these things are true, except when they’re not.
But at least I have a better idea of what is true about myself.
And, by the way, as much as I loved this song back in the day, now I relate in a whole new way…