This post is Grassroots, meaning a reader posted it directly. If you see an issue with it, contact an editor.
If you’d like to post a Grassroots post, click here!

April 14, 2019



Loneliness can creep up on you and take you by surprise. One day dining alone becomes a chore, the constant seeking for connection when others are busy with work, family, friends, Beloved’s, life.

Loneliness is like a cancer that seeps into your bones taking the joy out of life and ache seeps into the heart and soul calling to be itches but there is no ease until soul to soul, skin to skin, heart to heart connection has been established.

No matter how much ‘work’ I did. No matter how much I ‘delivered’ I sensed a loneliness creeping along beside me, behind me, inside me. Like that four footed beast Dr E speaks of in ‘Women who run with wolves’.

Shyness dresses this beast. Within it a story of being alone. Not good enough. Too old, too fat to this too that. All bullshit.

The fear of opening the heart and being the one that reaches out first, rather than shrinking back into the shadows. Being rejected again and again because the story you are running is one of rejection going in for the meeting. What do you expect?

How do you change a pattern? A story? One amazing woman I worked with Tess Horan asked me once ‘Sarah do you like yourself’? When I sank into that question. I realised ‘no’ I didn’t. How then can I ‘love’ myself if I can’t even ‘like’ myself? Throwing me into a spiral of self reflection I began to pull forth the aspects of myself that I did like.

I am kind.

I listen to my body I respect myself and my needs.

I am intelligent (this has taken years of courses and therapy to realise this!)

Yes I might be the heaviest I’ve ever been and struggling with that. But my body is for the most healthy and strong. For this I am grateful. I am also grateful for being a sexual being. Raw and primal and deeply sensual. This I like.

I am considerate. I am thoughtful. I care. I remember when people are going through rough times and check in. I remember birthdays.

I champion others. I see the best in people and entice that out, encourage it and applaud it in others.

I am good with animals. I give to others sometimes when I have nothing myself.

I love gifting people and creating opportunities for them to experience new things and succeed

I am a great cook! I am also really good at what I do in my work.

I am brave. I try new things.

I fuck up, I own it, I speak it and I forgive myself.

I always look for ways to be he best person I can be. Including when I fuck up!

I live my life in service yet honour myself financially.

I have really nice feet!

I bring myself to the dance floor of life. That means I am too much for many. When they project their own fears and inadequacies on to me. Yet I dance with them encouraging and enabling. Whilst the arrows get stabbed into my back. I remove them and add salve.

I am a good and loyal friend and partner, when given the opportunity and so much more.

It is time again for me to champion myself to that next level. To practise the kindness, love and compassion I show to others to myself.

‘Loneliness’ can be a friend, a guide. It highlights where something is ‘off’. How often have you felt lonely with another due to our not being totally authentic?

When we feel at peace with ourselves We can honour being alone without feeling lonely as we recognise that we are actually an amazing person to spend time with.

I like me. I love me. Do you like you?

Embrace the beast, learn to dance it’s Dance. Take the power back and integrate the whole of yourself to yourself. There in lies the ability to connect on levels previously hidden under illusion. Open to the grace and potency of who you are. You are so enough. Shine bright and live. And yes, I am too much for many, this simply means that those that embrace me are also bringing all of themselves to the table. I say YES let’s dine.

Art: Somerset Sentinel

August 2018 Sarah Bullock

Leave a Thoughtful Comment

Read 0 comments and reply

Top Contributors Latest

Sarah Bullock  |  Contribution: 2,520