You moved mountains

I must have started this article ten different times. Each time, a new event has happened, or a new wave of energy causes me to shift my angle. My perspective keeps changing because the world keeps changing. I suppose that’s what stays the same.

Rounding the corner to my last few days of being 25, the world feels a little different today. Maybe it’s because my evening plans are to pay my respects to the ten lives lost at a grocery store 25 minutes from my apartment. Maybe it’s because the seeming contradictions of lightness and darkness, growth and stagnation, are too much to take. Or maybe it’s just what I need.

I keep starting this article over because it is in my nature to find the light, the hope, the spark, the something good amidst something bad. I love this about myself. But I also know it gets in the way of allowing myself to grieve and show up as honestly as I preach.

I think we could all use a little more honesty. Oddly enough, it seems to me the person I tend to be the least honest with is myself. In the safety of my own private journal I can barely write my truest feelings.

I have decided to share a snippet of my story with you today because I believe in the power of stories. I believe we can learn from each other and I believe it is through empathy and compassion that we can learn to understand ourselves and each other. We are more alike than we think.


So, with no prior context, I will leave it to you to fill in the blanks with your own experiences and interpretation. This is my story as written in my journal. I hope that by sharing a piece of my story you may see the light in a piece of your own. After all, a wise man (Dr. Seuss) once said… “today you are you. That is truer than true. No one but you can be you-er than you.” 🙂



The urge as big as an ocean wave, the need to release what is clawing its way out, it aches so much it burns. The need to control, the fear of the hurricane, I am so tired.

I am so tired.

Hope slips away, I have nothing left to give. Where I tried to grab control I lost it.

I am so tired.

How could I possibly explain? Tell the world of this pain? How? How can I explain it if I don’t know it myself?

I do though. I know it so well. I have studied it, I have tested it, I have lived it. Over and over again. I have conquered it, and I have slipped back into it. Over and over again.

The chains if my disorder don’t keep me down, but they do wear me down. They make heavy of everyday acts. They make moments of lightness few and far between, but oh so precious in their fleet.

I give more advice than I take, my “old soul” contradicting my 25 year old body.

25 years I have been on this planet. Not 2021, 25. This year of my life I covered nearly 30,000 miles, half of which by car. This year I learned to love deeply and never regret it, even when it hurts to close the door. This year I learned that letting go begins with your bags not arriving at your destination. I need so much less than I have.

I have an awesome job, a cozy home, an enervating disorder, an adorable dog, and a broken heart. I have moments of doubt, but I also have a deep knowing that it will be okay. I will be okay. I will be okay because I have faith. I have faith in better. I have faith in the journey and the mystics of the sky. I have faith in spirit. I have faith in better.

Things won’t be better around the next corner, because they are better here, better now. Take the rocks out of your backpack. You don’t need those. The truth is, you moved mountains the whole way through. Sometimes it isn’t the answers we need, but the journey of asking the question. My shadows may feel starker, but that’s because my light is brighter.


It’s the age-old truth that you can only see the stars in the darkness of night. Bathing in moonlight, savor the sight.

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