I lost myself.
I swore I wouldn't. But I did.
I lost myself in parenting, in running a business, in making sure we had clean clothes, nourishing food, a clean house. I lost myself in giving time to my husband, my friends, my children, exercise, journaling, meditating, and all the other things I was told I 'should' be doing.
I lost myself in trying NOT to lose myself.
To be honest, I'm not even sure I truly knew myself before then anyway. I certainly didn't know myself well enough to sense that I was moving so far away from me.
Not until it all got so hard that I HAD to do something.
I was miserable. I was unfulfilled, stressed, stretched in so many different ways. I didn't know what was wrong. I didn't know who to listen to.
Until one day, I started listening to MYSELF.
And my heart asked me, "what do you love?"
And I said, "I don't know anymore"
So my heart asked, "what makes you happy?"
And I replied, "I don't know anymore"
And then my heart said, "what gave you joy when you were a child?"
And I immediately knew my answer.
"Creating", I said.
And with the memories, a small smile flickered at the edges of my mouth, and a small flame began to burn inside me.
As I began to create, I began to gently journey back home to myself. I learnt to listen to my heart more and more. I began to see how I could create my life, the way I created my art.
Step by step, creation by creation, I learnt, I grew, I connected, and I came to know myself again. I rediscovered joy and passion. I let myself be messy and vulnerable. I came home.