The Ride
In the last several years, I’ve prioritized growth and healing. I’ve been through a lot. I was so far from who I really am, stuck playing the roles other people in my life wanted me to play. I made decisions based on everyone else’s opinions and direction, never my own. Traumatizing events in my preteen, teen, and young adult years shaped me into someone completely out of touch with my own desires, heart, mind, and body. I didn’t know who I was.
I didn’t know how to smile for a picture. I took pride in never crying. I built a hard exterior, yet people constantly described me as bubbly and funny. Some even told me I was the happiest person they’d ever met, but really, I was living on autopilot.
Over time, everything I was pushing down finally started to erupt. I felt like I was falling apart. I didn't feel well. I was nauseous. I'd cry before going to work but didn't know why. The realization of everything I needed to address finally hit me. Metaphorically, I had been tossing every experience - every trauma, every true need and desire - into the backseat and just kept driving. Eventually, life slammed on the brakes, and it all came crashing forward.
That’s what finally made me seek help. My need for change was bursting at the seams. I did everything I could - I went to therapy, I consumed self-help books and podcasts, I found a mentor. It was messy, painful, and difficult. But now, at this point along the ride, I’m beginning to know who I am, what I want, and what truly matters to me. I’m finally living for me.
And I like who I am.
For the first time, I feel safer in my own body. The process has been huge, and I’m grateful I started it. But what I didn’t realize was how much this journey would alter my relationships. When I began to see things clearly, I also saw what wasn’t working. Now that I know what I align with, I recognize what doesn’t align. And when what doesn't align ended up being people close to me, my job, my life - changes started being made.
But nobody asked me to change.
I'm told they miss the “old me.” Some relationships have become distant and difficult, while others have grown closer and more loving. Learning to love, trust, and be close with myself has also allowed me to feel more connected to others than ever before. To be able to actually feel, process and continue had life feeling more precious - but also more painful.
Right now, I feel like I don’t have a family. I know I have a chosen family - I have an amazing partner and incredible friends - but sometimes, I still feel very alone. The people who have been around me my whole life suddenly don’t seem to know me at all. Now that I finally have an idea of who she is, I see the world differently.
I see people differently.
I see them in a softer light, with more empathy. I understand that how people act isn’t about me; it’s about what they’ve been through, the things that shaped them, the wounds they haven’t healed. Many of them likely haven’t even met themselves yet.
And while I have compassion for that, I also know this: Understanding someone’s “why” doesn’t excuse their behavior. Trauma isn’t a hall-pass to mistreat others. I sometimes find myself at a crossroads - seeing people more deeply, having more patience, empathy, and forgiveness for them - yet realizing that where they are no longer aligns with where I am.
And more often than not, there’s no sign they even want to get on the ride.
So I keep driving.
Except now, I’m not cluttering my backseat - I’m putting things where they belong. Even if it means pulling over and throwing some things away. Sometimes it builds up, but now I know how to clear it out.
I know I will be on this ride for my whole life, but for the first time, I'm in the drivers seat, and the road ahead is mine.
