Wanting to be Beautiful

It has taken me a moment to get here. To start writing. To start sharing what I am writing.

The thought of wanting to be beautiful came to me and I felt that I need to explore this a way that was beyond my journal.

I wake up in the morning, most times willing to get out of bed and seeking the opportunity to seize the day, yet often, it is my body that stops me. The moment I rise – my body goes directly to the washroom – directly towards a moment with myself where my conscience and my physical body slowly synchronize and function as one.

Washing my hands, I glance in the mirror – long enough to avoid myself or to spot a blemish that I inevitably want to address…at some point…but not just yet. Feeling the cool water on my hands, I’m at the cusp of awareness and I know – if I make a decision about anything – whether it is brushing my teeth or making coffee – my day will have begun.

The truth is, I always loved the morning look. Puffy eyes, lopsided ponytail and dishevel clothes. Recently however, maybe even over the last few years, I simply don’t know what to do with who I see.

In the real world I run a non-profit organization and co-founded two other community-based spaces. I am an independent woman who chose to be single until I didn’t. I am someone people used to come to in crisis and a person who in all the years working, living and appreciating community, lost herself, direction and personal purpose because I would not let myself exist beyond the collective, beyond trying to meet the needs of others. All because I was obsessed with stopping the impacts of capitalism on the unique lives of everyday people.

In the real world, I completely lost my sense of self in the effort to accommodate others. To be nuanced, I am not attempting to portray myself as a saint – I’m essentially saying I was trusted and for a long time, without even realizing it, the reason I didn’t need money or accolades in return is because supporting others, building community projects and learning with others how to live in this crazy world allowed me to avoid myself. It allowed me to ignore my own needs because existing in survival mode gave me the excuse to deny and self-sabotage myself, over and over again. Being preoccupied by other people’s drama and supporting them through it was my drug and it allowed me to numb my own pain.

There are a lot of different pieces to my story, that like all histories, they are not linear. I supposed though, this is where I am going to start from, because I am trying so hard to re-establish a foundation for me, for myself, to move towards becoming, to wanting to be and feel beautiful, inside and out.

To be continued with love,
Joanna