I read a blog post last week, a little list about the roles we play in life, and it’s been stuck in my mind ever since. It’s caused me to repeatedly ask myself, “Who am I?”. It’s quite a list…some easier to digest than others. Am I brave enough to write ALL of them?

Inspired by Linda G. Hill…

I am a mother.

I am a nurse.

I am a healer.

I am a writer.

I am a woman.

I am a mother. A single mother. A mother who grew up believing she would never be blessed with children, simply because it wasn’t her lot in life…almost like she knew she didn’t deserve them. A mother who would do anything in the world to not have her children feel like she did growing up, determined for them to not ever feel a lack of love.  A mother who almost messed all of it up by not figuring out where she was broken and where she needed to heal. Don’t worry, she figured it out. And they feel loved. So very loved.

I am a nurse. A nurse who has her codependency needs satisfied by having people need her. A nurse who prefers caring for the marginalized and least tempting patients. A nurse who believes everyone is worthy…everyone. A nurse who almost seems to be working out her penance in life by servicing others, as if she just might redeem herself through these acts. Maybe she will.

I am a healer, yet I am broken. I believe those who are broken never truly heal to the perfect version of what they would have been, they heal enough to become who they are now supposed to be. Like that story of the ancient Japanese custom to add gold to the glue when fixing broken dishes. Seeing the gold along the cracks celebrates the beauty of the brokenness. Perfectly flawed. Healing never ends. I am healing myself every day. Some days I can’t see it at all, like I’m sliding backwards and there’s not enough strength to get back to where I was. Then I wonder if I really ever made any progress at all.  But then, I learn that sliding backwards is part of the learning process, and if I’m lucky enough, I notice this and it works. If I’m not, I keep climbing then sliding then climbing then sliding, as many times as it takes me to notice why it’s happening. Then I stop sliding. I am a healer because I share my brokenness with the world. I share my climb. I share the sliding. Every once in a while, someone connects with my struggles, and they use it as a helping hand to start their own climb. Every once in a while.

I am a writer. Fiction is impossible. Authenticity is my niche. I uncovered the story which was buried in my soul and I release it by using the written word. Sharing my story is how the climb is possible, and I will not ever stop.

I am a woman. I am a child and a crone.  A daughter, a sister, an aunt, a mother, a cousin, a friend. A woman who carries her inner child along with the burdens which come with her.  A woman who has been violated, unloved, abandoned, abused, scapegoated, outcast…shunned. A woman who can feel alone while surrounded by a hundred friends. A woman who can feel unloved while immersed in it. A woman who cries, often. A woman who craves intimacy yet never quite allows it in. A woman who still feels broken, in places. I am also a woman who has started to heal her inner child. A woman who has turned into a warrior, overcoming the shadows of her past, shedding the heavy weight of shame and insecurity, and replacing them with vulnerability and authenticity. A woman who has slowly learned that she is outcast and shunned because of the brokenness of others, not hers. A woman who has gratitude for so many authentic friends who choose her. They choose her. A woman who rejoices in her tears, as she knows emotions were meant to be felt, experienced… and then released. Not stuffed. Life is sad, and being violated, unloved, abandoned, abused, scapegoated, outcast and shunned are cry-worthy things. There is no shame in feeling sad about these things. A woman who is slowly understanding why she craves intimacy, and how no man will ever fill that void until she fills it herself. How abandonment issues run into every facet of her life, and no one can make her feel worthy, except for herself. I am a woman who has realized that love should never be painful, or have to be earned or worked for. There should not be conditions or one-sided sacrifices. I am a woman who is so very slowly learning to not take it personally when people don’t love her. Some climbs take longer than others.

I am vulnerable, authentic, full of love and light.  I am a woman who is strong in the broken places. I am perfectly flawed. My cracks are filled with gold.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Nov. 24/18