Beginning & Becoming

Beginning & Becoming


The other day, which happened to be my birthday, I  let my emotions drown me.

I had expected it, like with previous birthdays, to be a rollercoaster of happiness, smiles, and laughter.  It was, only that this time, I was dealing with greater emotions, and I was fighting tears amidst a hearty laughter.

This person, who could see the tears welling up behind my smile, urged me to set them free.
Knowing how difficult it is for me to deal with my sudden flood of emotions, they handed me a diary, put on a playlist and sat close to hand me wipes, watching in silence as I wrapped my body in the warmest, yet most frightening of emotions..

I sat staring at the new blank diary, unable to find the words to express how I felt. Unable to let out the voices in my head. Unable to fathom what this means; having too much to say, but not finding the correct words.

My heart was beating, rhythmically, to the wonderful times I’ve had, so far, and those yet to come.

I sat there reflecting on how things had evolved and how I’ve grown through them. Thinking of people who have come into my life and those who’ve left. People I am yet to meet and those I hope to bump into in this journey of life.

I sat there, looking into the years I’ve been fortunate enough to call my own, and realized how much I’ve allowed myself to grow, evolve and slide into this version of me I had so much craved for.

For a long period, I felt a tidal wave of conflicted feelings rise within me. Disappointment, despair, pride, guilt, fulfilment, loss, victory, shame, hope, brokenness, intense happiness, and sadness all at once.

I let the storm rage till it settled and welcomed a wave of peace and calmness. I felt content with my life and where I was, even if it wasn’t where I want to be. That while some parts broke me or caused me pain and sadness, they also helped shape me into the person I have come to love so much. This person I wake up to every morning, and I no longer hate their image in the mirror. I no longer shudder at the thought of walking with them, throughout the day, and being proud of them. This person I have come to love so much, that I wonder why this journey to self-acceptance took so long.

As I finally open a page in this diary today, I realize that those emotions were preparing me for this new chapter of my life. Helping me to realize what has happened, what I need to carry on and, what I need to drop, and where I need to start again.

Oh, the things I’ve learned!

I’m proud of how, lately, I’ve been able to let things fall into place even when they aren’t falling in my desired order.

Of being okay with my cup being empty on some days, knowing that I can always fill it as long as I have it.

I’ve learned to believe in the fire that burns within my spirit and trust the beating of my heart. To treat myself with kindness, patience and gentleness on days when I want to walk out of my skin.

To speak respectfully, acceptingly, and lovingly to me and about me.

My emotions, as overwhelming as they can be, have evolved to the point that I no longer give  people the power to break me, or stand on the giving end without receiving. That I am  able to hold onto myself when no one does,  is a power I am embracing.

Heck, I’ve learned to let things go! To let go of weights that take up too much room in my heart.

To walk away from places and people  that silence my voice and drain my energy. To wear and  feel beautiful in my stretch marks and scars, even in spaces that demand perfection.

I’ve learned to love myself and to allow myself to be loved. To tear down the wall around my heart and face the people for whom my soul beats with raw emotions. To be able to speak my heart while also listening to theirs without  losing myself  in the middle.

Because I am learning to pay more attention to what is going on within me,  to connect with my depths on deeper levels, I realize that relaxing in my bed with a book or binge-watching my favorite shows, without worrying who called, texted, or is coming over, is peace in its own measure.

Despite all the negativities of life, I can proudly say that I am finding myself. Though messy and ugly,  I am learning that this emptiness I try to fill in all manner of ways can first be filled with my own love.

That I can be safe with myself even if no one else hears my screams.

Even with all the challenges coming my way, I am not afraid of losing this happiness because I know how to make it.

I am in a space where I can comfortably say, “I am home to myself, with myself.”

Now that I’m at this phase where I’m not sure what’s going to happen, it’s scary, this version of me that’s evolving. This version that looks like it is just starting, and I have no idea where I should drive it. This version that seems too huge for my little shoulders, yet I desire no outside influence. It is scary because I know that it could make or break me, but I am not afraid of what will be, because I know that I am becoming.

I’ve gathered my lessons, I’m ready for new ones, and prepared for what this season will bring me.

So as my year begins, I hope to be here more often. To write and let the spirit of writing overwhelm me. To trust in my wings even when I don’t have the strength to fly.

About the author:

Gracey Eunice is a Special needs teacher by profession, committed to raising disability awareness, a digital marketer by training, with a great niche in content creation, and a writer by passion. She finds solace in writing and peace in telling stories about her, mental health and things happening in her environment. Her headaches, she says, are from smiling too much.

If not on her blog, The Mirrored Voice, you can always read her on her Facebook page @Gracey Eunice.

Heart & Soul - Beginning & Becoming

 

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Meet Eunniah Mbabazi
Eunniah Mbabazi is an Electrical and Electronic Engineer with a deep passion for books and literature. She has authored Breaking Down, an anthology of short stories and If My Bones Could Speak, a poetry collection. She also co-authored Kas Kazi (a novel) and When a Stranger Called (an anthology of short stories).

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