I lost myself again. It feels like I’ve been missing for years, but it’s been a week. Just a week. Each day built on the smallest choices to ignore my soul’s tiny voice whispering in the storm.
I question my own motives sometimes. Why do I say yes to things that I know will cause me to lose my way? Do I so desperately need to feel wanted, feel useful, that I’m willing to slip back into old roles that were always a poor fit? I’m exaggerating, aren’t I? It’s not that the old role was always a poor fit. I chose it willingly, and learned much from it. I even enjoyed it at times, so I shouldn’t pretend now that it wasn’t right for me. It’s just that things have changed, and I have a chance now to choose something different for myself. And that’s scary.
It is easier to do what I’ve been doing, but still there’s a part of me today questioning my motives. Did I really want to help? or did I want to feel appreciated? Am I strong or needy? Or both? Can’t I be both?
I haven’t thought about writing all week. I was busy, true, but I’ve been busy all year and still made time, still made thoughts. Not this week. This week I let go, and until last night, I wasn’t sure I’d find my way back here. But I have. I did. For now.