Sometimes therapy blows my mind. And it's not because of anything crazy special. It's because someone sits across from me and says words I've said to myself or wondered or thought...but they just fall differently on me.
That happened today. My therapist pointed out all these good and happy things I've been talking about. She reflected back to me the light that's coming out of my face. And then she asked me if I'm allowed to be happy.
I'm being confronted with so much good and happiness from all sides in my life right now...and it's overwhelming in the best and most confusing way at the same time.
I'm being forced to sit with the fact that I am allowed to be happy. And just because I don't remember what this has felt like for a long time, doesn't mean I'm not allowed to experience it fully. Doesn't mean it's not authentic. Doesn't mean it's not real. I can't express how crazy huge it feels to sit face-to-face with that. You would think that after all the **** of the last few years that I would be running full-tilt into happiness. That I would feel like I deserved it. That I would dive in head first and swim around until I couldn't breathe anymore.
I'm working on it. I am staring it right in the face and I'm trying to let it conquer me. I'm allowed to be happy. It is possible for me to be happy. Just because it feels like new territory, and it's terrifying, and it's overwhelming, doesn't mean that it's not authentic.
So that's it. I'm confronting happiness. I'm confronting all the fear and control and experiences I bring to the table and I'm working on letting happiness win. Because I deserve it. And I'm allowed to be happy. And until I believe that 100%, I will believe the percentage that I discovered today and I will work on owning more and more until I've reached the full 100.
2 comments:
I always love reading your blog. Your honesty is always so refreshing. Thank you.
I'm happy you're happy. Just in case I haven't told you enough.
P.S. I miss seeing your face every day.
P.S.S. Random side note-i just glanced at your side panel of faves and I saw porches, but I somehow read it as "porsches" (the squiggly red line is telling me this is not a word, but you get me) and I had this sad moment where I felt like I didn't know you at all. Glad you are not actually obsessed with expensive sports cars.
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