Day Forty Four: 954.0 – 980.0km

I walk, letting the tall grass run through my fingers as my hands brush past, and I see me. The real me. The me that is so often obscured by distractions of everyday life, responsibilities and to-do lists.

The veil of familiarity and monotony has fallen away. I begin to see the woman inside me with more tenderness and a deeper love than I usually have time for. As I focus and allow myself that time, she grows and develops as film negative does in a darkroom.

Last night, Thibaud and I talked about such experiences: having more clarity when the ‘real world’ is stripped away. For me, music awakens old memories and leads me to process my heart on deeper levels. I find myself pondering past loves, and then working through why something as trivial as an ‘Instagram like’ would still evoke feelings in me, both good and bad.

If I am still affected, why so? What do I need to forgive? What do I need to let go of?

I had a falling out with another hiker a few weeks back too. What began as a simple misunderstanding blew out of proportion very quickly. I felt I was not in the wrong, but the friendship was worth more than my pride, so I ate some humble pie and apologised anyway, explaining my reaction and asking forgiveness. It was thrown back in my face, and hurt me. Things have since settled some, but I still feel the ugly twinge of bitterness and resentment, even as I try to forgive daily.

T and I spoke about it last night, and what might be the root causing such reactions within me.

These were the questions I asked myself as the soft grass brushed past my fingertips.

When I saw the real me, I saw the thread of an answer I know I have yet to unravel more.

I feel inadequate.

I feel I am not enough.

I chase down adventure, I learn new languages, I visit countries and push limits because a part of me feels I am not enough. The girl behind the bar, the girl at church, the girl who babysits Solomon Smith: she is not enough. Somehow, some deep part of me bought into a lie that perhaps this is why I’ve been single for five years. Perhaps this is why my apology fell to the wayside.

Watching the misty clouds roll over the ridge I had just crested, I paused a moment to sit and talk to me.

Those lies that I’m not enough? They’re lies.

I am beautiful, strong, and kind.

I am spontaneous, intuitive, and passionate.

I chase down adventures and learn new languages not to prove anything to anyone or even to myself, but to live life to its absolute fullest and grow continuously. My relationship status is not a reflection of my identity; one day I will be an amazing partner, wife, mother – full of the most magical stories and experiences and lessons learnt along the way.

For now, I will endeavour to keep my heart open to the real me. I will acknowledge my shortcomings and not be afraid to face hard questions. I will let go of the past, of the number on the scales, of the expectations I place upon myself. I will learn to keep embracing where I am and who I am each moment as it comes – not just when I walk through the tall grass of a forest floor.

6 thoughts on “Day Forty Four: 954.0 – 980.0km

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