I can’t tell you about the first time I broke my own heart.
There’s just too many to pin point it exactly.
It could be when I constantly chose them over me;
It could be when I said yes every time when I needed to say no.
It could be the times I decided I wasn’t welcome in this world and the times I tried to take myself out of it.
Or maybe it was one of the times when I looked in the mirror with so much hate that the glass shattered to pieces.
Maybe, just maybe, it was when I would carve dreams into my skin just so I could feel alive.
I honestly don’t know.
There are so many times in my life where I thought I was inherently damaged beyond repair.
Ugly, fat, stupid, hideous, disgusting, subpar, meaningless,
worthless, worthless, worthless.
My soul just screamed at a constant yet subtle tone.
“Pick me, please. Just pick me.”
But I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready.
I was building a wall of ammo of all the things I had done and said to myself while I was just trying to survive.
It was meant to keep you out, but essentially, all it did was keep me in.
Be nothing, do nothing, say nothing; My mantra for ages.
If I pretend everything is okay, then it has to be, right?
If I smile and play the part…everyone will believe I am put together, will they not?
My act only worked on my audiences, and when I got home and removed all the masks I thought I needed to wear to obtain love and happiness, I was left with a skeleton of brokenness.
No matter how hard I tried to change every fiber of my being to fit the mold of who I thought I should be, I failed.
Which, in my mind, dubbed me a perpetual failure.
I’m NEVER going to be good enough. I’m NEVER going to be happy. I am NEVER going to make my dreams come true. I am just not worth it. I am, and will always be, insignificant.
I am nothing.
There have been times when I fought every part of my identity.
When I rejected my true nature because I was convinced it was just downright awful.
There are literally not enough words to describe to you the ways in which I degraded and betrayed myself. The ways in which I never held myself in the same light I hold all my loved ones in. The ways in which you were always, one-hundred percent, superior to me.
At 27, things started to change.
Once again, I was a complete and utter mess.
Yet again, I was sitting there cursing my existence.
As usual, I was stifling my needs and my thoughts because I believed I was not worthy of expressing them.
It hurt more than ever this time, and for anyone like me… pain is a brilliant and necessary motivator.
I wanted out. I was done. I was sick of this life and I wanted nothing to do with it anymore.
But for reasons I cannot articulate I chose not to retreat into my dark, tiny, hidey-hole of comfort.
I cracked my chest open and ripped apart my soul.
The debilitating pain just seeped onto the floor in a puddle of destruction.
I really thought it would consume me.
I really thought it would be the end of me and I could finally be at peace, but only one actually came true.
The peace.
I spent 27 years looking for love and answers when I had them all along.
For whatever reason, there was a tiny light burning bright inside me. The fire in my heart that kept me here.
The love and acceptance I was constantly suffocating myself for didn’t need to come from you.
It needed to come from me.
Which seems like a pretty simple thought, right?
Maybe to some, but when you spend 27 years trying to drown the ugly parts of yourself it really is anything but simple.
I just stopped resisting.
I stopped bullying myself.
I stopped eating the hatred for myself like my favorite pizza.
I sat down, and I started listening.
I asked myself why I feel this way, I asked myself for the proof of my worthlessness, I asked myself when I can first remember feeling this way and what was happening, and I asked myself what I was willing to do to repair the damage I had done.
Speak up.
Say no.
Remove yourself from the back burner.
Treat yourself the way you treat your friends and your family.
Accept that whilst you may be hurting, so are a lot of other people.
Share your story.
Scream from the mountain tops about all the times you wanted to jump off.
Choose you, always.
Choose you.

It was a hard month full of gut-wrenching tears and what felt like complete torture.
And then, I peeled myself off of the floor and started moving forward.
I honored my hurt the same way I honored my happy.
I sat down with my depression and listened to what it was trying to tell me.
I unearthed my rage and I gave it an outlet.
For the first time in my life, I catered to my own needs and let go of anyone who couldn’t or wouldn’t respect that.
Each time I spoke up, I got a little bit stronger.
Every time I put me first, I added a brick to my foundation.
You see, life is a series of moments woven together to make a masterpiece.
I decided to use my pain as art and speak freely about everything.
The only thing I wanted to destroy were my secrets.
So I did.
There was nothing easy about this soul-shattering transformation.
Plenty of times, I questioned whether or not I would actually survive it.
But looking back 2 years later, I can honestly say I wouldn’t recognize the 27 year old me even if she punched me in my face.
Because today, I am my own best friend.
Today, I understand that no one will have my back if I don’t have it first.
I welcome the hard days and then I honor them.
I nurture my heart the way a mother nurtures a childs.
I embrace every single part of who I am.
If there’s something I am proud of, I share it.
If there is something I want to stop doing, I make it a mission to change it.

I am compassionate.
I am loving.
I am tenacious.
I am intelligent.
I am determined.
I am hilarious.
I am willing.
I am happy.
I am free.
I am me.

I cried for the years I lost while I was at war with myself.
I challenged myself to make up for it for the rest of my life.
So even if everyone I ever loved decided to leave…
I will still be okay.
My foundation is unbreakable.
I have sewn my heart back together with this new-found appreciation I have for what I have been through, and for what I have survived.
This is only the beginning.
The only one who has to live with the way I treat myself, is me.
I wrapped up that little, broken girl and placed her at the center of my broken heart.
And then I offered nothing but love to them both.
I will never stop singing my battle cry
I am a warrior.
But don’t you ever forget that so are you.