From my Heart, From My Journal: Freedom Begins in this Smile.

I rise up to greet the day. The day greets me. 

What is possible, when I am myself...

That is the thought, the feeling— that speaks to me so loudly, it is the melody I enter into, in this moment. 

I unpack this slowly, like opening a wrapper to a delicious candy that my mouth cries out for. 

What is possible, when I am just me... 

Devoid of should’s, pleasing & labels stuck onto me that obscure the truth. 

It is like being naked while wearing clothes, my comfortable pajamas and a looseness in my soul. 

Even my skin feels different, it hangs lighter, with less weight. 

What is possible, when I am myself...

I sing in the words, the words sing back to me. Peeling open layers, opening hidden magic I didn’t know was hidden. 

I only want what sets me free—what barrels me gently towards the fiery freedom that awaits in my soul. 

I only want what is love—what is open and wild and all embracing. 

I want the settling, stardust vibrancy of all that feels really, really good. 

There were enough years I spent stumbling blind, in the darkness. 

There were enough years I spent drowning in the waters of utter pain. 

There were enough years of doubt and fear and fury. 

And now

The truth that brings me to tears as it rustles through my being, as though I’m made of a symphony of leaves— 

“You don’t have to hurt forever.

That’s not your destiny. 

Rise now. 

Be love now. 

Be magic now. 

Know joy now. 

Smile now.” 

And the tears are tears of joy—they flutter down my cheeks like the gentle wingbeats of monarch butterflies. It’s like they speak volumes, it’s like they tell me that it really is safe to by myself. 

And sure, there is still work to do to heal these wounds, and there may still be bad days and tough moments sprinkled in there. But it doesn’t have to define everything. It is not the whole picture. Not anymore. 

There so is work to do—but there is also play. Play invites me now, like she’s been sending me invitations and I’ve been rolling my eyes, flat-out lying and saying they must’ve gotten lost in the mail. 

It’s brave to play when life has been so weighty. I need that bouncing weightlessness to propel me further now. 

I thirst for that lightness that sparkles like sugary icing, like a celebratory glass of champagne, like confetti. 

And these tears are tears of joy.  And that makes all the difference. 

In this smile that is broad and real, reaching all the way down to my toes—to my soul. 

Tingles ensconce me, goosebumps prickle over every pore. 

Freedom starts now. 

This is a new chapter. I get to write it myself, not just with the blood of my pain—but with the stirrings of raw beauty in my soul. With the knowing that I am allowed to be happy—that I will be. 

The sun shines down, dappled from the rhodenderon and tall spruce trees, and even the air tastes different in this moment. 

I feel taller. 

Freedom starts now, in this long-awaited recognition of who I truly am. 

Freedom starts now, in this all-embracing smile that reaches all the way down to my toes. 

Because these tears are tears of joy—and that makes all the difference.