Therapy means different things for different people at different times in their lives. I’ve opened up about my brokenness in therapy. It wasn’t easy. Although, there’s a feeling of release that comes with sharing what broke you when you know it won’t be met with judgement.
My latest guest post on Abernathy Magazine scratched the surface of what happened in that session a few months ago.
That being said – this will be my last post on WordPress for awhile.
I’ve always said I’d shut down 30s and Beyond once I got married. The simplified reason for it then was 2-fold: writing takes up a lot of time. Secondly, the vast majority of readers don’t come on the internet to read the good stuff. I mean, videos of proposals, weddings, and baby announcements go viral. However, beyond that, I don’t think people care much to read about the happy stages of life and living. That’s what Instagram is for. The last few days though, my decision shifted to being solely about the present.
I’ve gone back and forth on this decision for awhile now. I had a reader send me an email to remind me that ever so often, something I write is good in the sense of it helps someone in a way I wasn’t even considering when I wrote it. My choice finally became clear this week. I attended a church service last month where I got honest about a tough subject in my life. I’m not an alcoholic but I’ve had issues with alcohol. Nothing made me feel more isolated than the brokenness I pretended didn’t exist. Hearing a man of God speak openly about his struggles helped me be more accepting of mine. I realized in the service that we’re all broken in some form or fashion. That healing comes through your spiritual relationship.
We’ve all endured something in life that left us damaged. Some damage – whether physical or emotional – is capable of being reversed. For the lucky ones, the effects may never manifest. It’s normal to want to be freed from the anchors of our past. I can’t change the events that broke me. But I’m in a place where I’m no longer ashamed of them.
Writing has helped me be more pragmatic in how I address those parts of my life. In a way, writing has been like therapy without having to cut a check. I sometimes didn’t know how I felt about an event or idea until I fleshed it on in a WordPress tab. If my words and perspective helped a random stranger, cool.
For example, the post I did about grooming gave me a vantage point to examine how something simple as shaving wasn’t just about shaving. Through it, I acknowledged issues with my own self-esteem. Having low-self esteem isn’t a problem associated with men. But the fact is I have days where I hate my skin. Some of the tattoos I have were done to cover up permanent marks. I was able to unpack some of those feelings because of an idea from my editor. It’s funny how the pain you try to ignore can become a powerful muse.
I look ahead to my future. I’m putting myself out there because I want to settle down and do all that comes with it. When the time is right, I’ll be open about seeing a therapist. I won’t downplay insecurities that sometimes pop up. Whomever enters my life will choose to stick around because they know about the ugly, imperfect scars and still think I’m a good person.
For now, there’s a vacancy in my heart; except it’s not a lonely, depressed void that’s previously taken root. It’s kinda like when an old building gets demolished. Once the debris has cleared, you’re left with a barren piece of land. In that emptiness, there’s renewal. There’s a place to visualize where something dope can be rebuilt. I think of my life that way.
With graduation coming up and other life changes going on, a writing break is required. The time away will free me up to have new experiences. If I do come back to this blog, I hope to have some great stuff to share. It’s important for us to dedicate our energies on living and doing and less thinking. (You can still follow my freelance writing on GMP, Medium, and occasionally BMWK)
There’s a record by Common called “Love Is…” that appropriately embodies where I am.
As men we were taught to hold it in
That’s why we don’t know how ’til we’re older men
If love is a place I’ma go again
At least now, now I know to go within.