I’ve always had a passion for writing. It wasn’t until I reached 40 that I knew myself well enough to have anything I felt worthy of sharing. I am passionate about living the best life I can while enjoying every moment along the way.
I live in Australia with my daughter and our beloved cat Kingsley.
By the time I was 19, there were three things I loathed more than anything; me, myself and I. I couldn’t trust myself. I didn’t love myself. Worst of all, I couldn’t get away from myself.
I consumed anything to flee from my feelings. Drugs, alcohol. Cigarettes. I hated myself for being so weak. For being powerless. I wanted to stop but couldn’t. Sobriety meant reality and that meant facing myself. That felt too vulgar. Too annihilating. Too utterly shameful.
And then, my world collapsed. I understood at some core level that I had to change or slowly die. I decided to try to learn how to love myself. I chose to learn responsibility. I chose to create my life rather than letting life happen to me. I literally had to relearn how to live.
The relearning was grueling. There were days when I felt like I wanted to cut myself out of my skin, the inner turmoil was so agonising and pervasive. But I hung on with sheer determination and ultimately the desire to live.
I found faith in both myself and a higher power. I worked consciously and vigilantly to alter my thinking. I was blessed to have people in my life who loved me despite myself and who truly believed in me when my faith in myself wavered. I absorbed myself in positivity and slowly, the changes arose.
As trite as it sounds, love for one’s self is truly the only remedy for all our ails. Everyone has a purpose. Everyone is meant to be here. Everyone is important. If I could so profoundly change my life anyone can. We just need to believe that we deserve to.
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