I am a veteran of the “Me Too” movement, before I even knew such a thing existed. I’ve been in recovery for years from childhood sexual abuse, satanic ritual abuse and adult domestic abuse, with some sexual assault thrown into the heady mix. It’s been a very slow, painful process of unraveling all of the threads of abuse, uncovering the emotions and putting the pieces of my fragmented memories back together. And more recently, it’s also been a process of piecing myself back together in the best and most beautiful way possible, like a mosaic of memories, and experiences.  There have been some amazing discoveries about who I really am, and how brave, strong and resilient I have become, not in spite of, but because of  the pain I have experienced. Learning to let go of self-imposed expectations for who I should be, and how my life should have been has been the hardest, and most poignant lesson of all, but I’m finally getting there.

Embracing both my inner light and my shadow self has been another messy journey, but one I am grateful for, because I’ve learned so much more from my darkness than anything else. I’ve realized that there is no right or wrong way to love and accept yourself, as long as it’s real. Just like life itself, self-love is messy, it’s imperfect, but it’s a part of who I am now. It’s helped me overcome not only repeating patterns of choosing abusive partners and relationships, it’s helped me to keep my inner demons at bay, from addictions to eating disorders. Some days I’ve got a hangover from loving myself too hard, and I need a bite from a contrast sandwich just to keep a sense of humor about this whole process, but I see my inner self now more like a little sister, who can sometimes be annoying as hell, yet you love the heck out of her anyway, and you accept her for who she is. I’m never going to be like anyone else or learn how to do things the right way, according to someone else’s vision of how I should be, because I can’t be like anyone else, but you know what? That’s a beautiful thing, and I can now see, and embrace my stubborn uniqueness and complexity.