I am no stranger to the darkness.

I have spent the past five years thriving there. I have been living my life, lifelessly, genuinely believing there must be something deeply wrong with me.

I was playing a victim, but keeping a tough exterior. Doing all the right spiritual things, remaining detached, going with the flow, relentlessly in surrender, hoping, wishing, waiting, and believing I would be saved because I am good…and good things only happen to good people, right?

Surely, I know I am not special, but I was almost able to touch heaven with my goodness.

I thought I was following all the rules. I was trying so hard to be everything to everyone. Showing up for people and living to give to those who, oftentimes, didn’t care to reciprocate this kind of unconditional love that I thought I was giving. I secretly resented them for not giving back to me, which, in hindsight, just made my love conditional too.

I could never see the contrast and duality. I could not recognize the part I was playing too. I deeply believed somewhere within me that I must have a penance to pay for all the f*cked up sh*t I’ve done, and surrounding myself with the types of people who could validate this inner belief by taking, then taking some more. I would feel drained and feed off the deep knowing that I am deeply wounded and completely undeserving of the good things that good people deserve.

I kept lending money when I didn’t have money to lend, trying to save people from themselves, excepting breadcrumbs of love and affection while remaining grateful for the things I have—the things that I thought I wanted but didn’t even want. I was leaking my own power. Giving away my power to anyone who wanted control of it, all the while wondering, “What did I do to deserve any of this?” I asked myself questions like, “How come this keeps happening to me?” when everything fell apart, yet again.

I was participating in backhanded gossip, calling that love. I was allowing the lies, knowing with every part of my body that they were lies. I had someone ask me, “Do you do this because you care what people think or is it because you want to?” At the time, I replied with, “I want this; it doesn’t matter to me what other people do.” Of course, this was only partly true.

I didn’t care what you did, as long as it didn’t hurt me, which I see is still an expectation that I only have of loving people within my life—because that is, of course, what I deserve. I believed that I was protected because I am a good old soul, forgetting that the only person who can actually protect me was me.

You see, I didn’t just give my power away to others, I would also throw my arms up in the air and beg and scream to my creator, “Why me?” I was expecting God to be a wishing well, to save me from myself, to protect me from the maggoty people and sh*t in this world. I was giving all my power to my mantras, my creator, the universe, doing and saying anything possible to remain in the light. Yet, I was just relentlessly refusing to actually stand in my own power by asserting myself and holding boundaries—the power given to me, given to all of us, by the creator.

I was seeking validation from anywhere and anyone that I was, in fact, good and true. Looking for positive reinforcement that I was a good mother, friend, daughter, employee, writer, lover, not realizing that no one could tell me who I am; no one can actually decide who I will be.

And then, I received the showstopper.

The mirror.

Wrapped up in the perfect person who lied to me about everything they were.

It blew my world open; this little life that I love but mostly hate, all my inner beliefs and childhood wounding were shoved in my face. I wanted to blame him for everything that was happening to me by his own doing, but I had to look at who I was being too. The truth is, as sick as it makes me feel, he was mirroring my goodness by pretending to be me, but in contrast, he was showing me my dark side too.

I find it almost admirable that he does not have the awareness or capability to see both sides as I do. He doesn’t yet know how it feels to fall onto your knees and see that you are good but also bad. He hasn’t yet had to feel the splitting open that this kind of terrifying realization brings.

I don’t wish the splitting on anyone. Somehow I know, though, that this will be worth it. And also that in due time, we will all return to the light, and that if we don’t, well, I can’t decide what will feel worse. I am not entirely sure that honouring or running is easier or harder, as it seems life has a way of being painful either way. I just know that running never really leaves much room for peace. That is free will—and always a choice.

I was really drawn to this person. The intensity of his stare, the feeling as though we had met before, the undeniable connection that I know now as light meets dark. The missing puzzle piece. The moth and the flame. The yin and the yang. He came to deliver me to my wholeness. It will be made right, but not without either one of us falling to our knees. This is the power of the creator: we really are just walking each other to the other side.

I deeply believe I needed the show, knowing that my life needed to stop so that I could begin again. I have heard this described as the becoming.

I went into this dark tunnel by my own will and all of this unknowing is what I am taking out of it with me into the next part of my life—the life I will claim and live with the knowing that I am both good and bad, and that neither of those things is good or bad, but that it can all be used for the good or bad. It is always our choice.

I don’t yet know what is next for me. I am lost somewhere between worlds. I know that I have learned that no matter what I do now, I will have to continuously learn to carry all of me—the really good parts and the bad ones too.

That is the deliverance, the duality, the strengthening, the becoming and unbecoming of desiring to be whole, complete, and true.

I recognize that I am always given a choice on whom I choose to be, that no one can choose that for me; it is mine and only mine to claim.

I am loved and also not loved.

I am special, and I am not special.

I am capable of righteousness, but I am also vindictive.

I am the manipulator and the one being manipulated.

I am the giver and the taker.

I am the problem and the solution.

I am the moth and the flame.

I am the demon and the divine.

I am good, and I am bad.

I am both.

I am.

And now that I know this, I am free to be whoever I choose to be, without needing anyone to tell me who I am.

Somewhere between the dark and the light is where I find myself right now, and it looks and feels a lot like wholeness.

I guess it really is my choice, which road, which path, which way of being I choose.

Keep going.

~