Into the woods v.2

Following my traditional 'loss of the light', new year plunge into darkness I am looking at a new path out. As blah as it was at the time, ending the year sleeping 15 hours a day while my aching body tried to repair itself was actually the right way to go. Christmas hoop-la was downsized almost out of existence and I got time to take a good look at where I am and where I actually belong.

I came face-to-face with an inconvenient truth. A truth that I can avoid to gold medal standard, that I can ignore by staring at Pinterest and other forms of self-sedation, that I can convince myself I'm addressing by making petty things seem important.

The truth is that I really struggle with being open and vulnerable with the people closest to me. Here on the internet I can be all touchy-feely, emotional, creative, in touch with my power and all the rest of that good stuff. In the real world with my loved ones, I am uptight, neurotic, hung-up, defensive and prone to withdrawal. I am not emotionally eloquent. I am overly insular. The closer I am to you, the further I will push you from my bunker. And that hurts people. It hurts me.

I'm not always this way, sometimes Happy Me gets to play but we live under a cloud of financial insecurity that terrifies me and I am ashamed that this is a big deal for me. Should I not be above such things? Should I not believe in universal abundance? It seems I can only believe those things when my bills are paid and we have a safety net to protect us, our animals and our home. I know this is because I am afraid and fear is a liar who invades all aspects of your life.

The great thing about the internet is that here I can see my own potential. I know a strong, loving, powerful woman exists because, at a safe distance from anyone who may call me a fake, I am her. I am. What I write here is true and authentic and comes from my heart and soul but somehow, in the daily mess, I fall into a place of fear and I deal with that fear in ways that have been passed down through my family for generations. I build a wall and behind it I either a) hide or b) throw spears. I would have been awesome in the middle ages. Middle-aged? Not so much.

Remember when the menopausal years used to be known as The Change? I do. It was always said in a stage whisper. I'm going to rehabilitate The Change and it will be positive. It will be my chance to truly change my old habits and become the person I am on the inside. Because it's new territory I'm going to take it slow. I'm going to make the change in real time in the real world with the people who don't care about my blog and my instagram feed; they care about me.

It's going to be extremely hard. These habits have saved me from pain, rejection and discomfort all my life. They have also saved me from fulfilment, joy, power, love and life. I no longer accept that deal. I am not renewing my contract with fear. And yet honestly... I'm already scared.

Tracie's new year post - a manifesto if ever I saw one - speaks loudly to me. I need to build strong new foundations slowly. I know I'll run and hide a lot. I know I'll hyperventilate a lot. I know I'll probably be extremely defensive and shouty because just writing this is tightening my chest. But I will be trying and succeeding. Nature, my family, meditation, my beliefs, my friends and the love that is waiting for me will surely help.

I'm leaving the barricade, going into the woods.