And in some ways, it was beautiful. We had created a wonderful world that had the milestones of life attached to it. Moving out of the city, getting married, building a career, and talking about the future. But as the time went by, I felt more and more like I was playing a part in the life that I thought I needed to live. As if I wasn’t completely attached to my body, and although I was speaking and breathing, I didn’t actually feel like I was there. Almost as if I was acting out my life.

Because the weight of having to live each day as someone else, felt too hard to bear. As the days went on, the actions that I was making each day, didn’t feel meaningful, because they weren’t me. It was like I had become a static version of myself, and that I was far away from life itself.

Putting on a smile that wasn’t my own, and laughing to jokes that on the inside, didn’t ring true, left me feeling alone. I always appreciated the life that I had, but there was more in me. There was a calling of my soul. There was a calling of myself, that wanted to be heard. 

I could hear her; the sounds of times past with friends, loved ones and going on adventures. The way that I would run through the woods, and climb up trees, and be happy spending each day in the garden. Thoughtful songs, and moments of pause. All calling me home. A family that I loved, and a path that I would walk on my own. She was calling me, because life is about being the fullness of yourself. No matter how ugly you think that your full self is. She is beautiful, in every breath and in each moment.

My 28th birthday was coming close, and on a stormy October night, I sat in meditation with myself. The air was cold, the night was drawing in after a day of cooking and cleaning. Making meals, running errands, and trying not to think of what could have been. I sat with my eyes closed, and envisioned my true self. Although it had been a long time since I could remember her, she was there, waiting for me. Coming to call me home.

Tears came to my eyes, and the memories came flooding back. The things that I had wanted to do, the way that I thought about things, and the experiences that I had pushed to the side, for being too exciting and fun for the proper life I thought I needed to live. The streetlights flickered outside, as a wave of emotion hit me. I knew at once that I had created a life that was not me. That was not who I truly am. And as beautiful as it was, I needed to leave.

The next thing to do was to pack up my things. Covid was starting to get worse again, and I knew that I needed to leave the Netherlands quickly. I left my marriage, and headed to Wales to stay with family. I didn’t know where I would be going next. But it didn’t matter, because I knew that I was with my true self.

I wasn’t going to ignore her anymore, because the joy if being my full self in each moment, has been a gift. Remembering that I am worthy, good enough, in all the messiness and in the in-between, the growth and the learning, the falling and getting back up. Remembering that I am my soul, and that every part of me is worthy and beautiful.