My mind’s running 100 miles per hour.
My body keeps the score. It’s been playing catch up for so long-now, it bears the brunt- physically, mentally, emotionally.
I’ve spent years running.
From places.
From the people.
From the spotlight.
From my dreams.
Now, I run from myself.
I run as fast as my tired legs can carry me.
I’ve been running on water, running on empty, running on the pain, running on air, and now, I have nowhere to run to.
I’ve run out of places and people to run from. So, I stay.
I’m floating. Drifting between what was and what could be.
It’s a funny thing, really.
I’m not quite there yet, but, I’m no longer where I used to be.
If you ask me where I am now, I’ll tell you I don’t know. Really. I don’t.
Everyone seems excited about something.
A dream job.
An internship.
A wedding.
A child.
A new car.
So, I wonder - am I broken, or is everyone just lucky?
When is it going to be my turn too?
When will I also be “excited to announce?”
Or will I just continue to be happy for others, never reaching my own happy place?
Why hasn’t anyone written a New York Times bestselling book on handling change? Not the pretty, Pinteresty one I see on Instagram, with all the aesthetics.
I’m talking change- the kind that humbles, that strips you bare and pushes you out of your comfort zone.
The change that breaks you, and somehow, still keeps you coming back for more.
The one that breaks you till there’s nothing left to break anymore. Till you’re so exhausted, you can barely get out of bed.
Why hasn’t anyone started a 30-day masterclass on handling change without losing your mind?
I’d pay for it in a heartbeat.
Life is like eba. You will make it. - Anonymous.
I went somewhere recently, and came back a changed woman.
It was like a glimpse into the future- into what could be IF I stayed on change’s path, regardless of the chaos and the pain.
In that place, words eluded me. I still can’t accurately describe what happened to me.
There, in the mix of chaos and serenity- my heart felt at home for the first time in a long while.
And it was ironic, really. This was a place I really disliked. Yet here I was, crying over a semblance of the life I knew I wanted and deserved, but couldn’t have, at least for now. ChatGPT called it “aspirational nostalgia”.
The bittersweet feeling of seeing something you so desperately want that’s slightly out of reach. I’ve only ever cried so hard in my life.
Let’s talk about change.
Not the cute Pinteresty board type.
Not the one written in cutesy color coded journals.
Not even the ones you hear about in TED talks or movies.
Definitely not the ones you see in TV commercials about a butterfly leaving it’s cocoon. Ugh, no abeg.
I’m talking CHANGE.
The one where you feel- not quite a total stranger, but you can see bits of yourself fading away.
The one that feels like you’re watching everything unfold in third person and you can’t do anything about it.
The one that breaks you and strips you and scares the life out of you.
The one you fail at, even before starting.
The one where you’re floating, drifting between who you used to be, who you are, and who you could be.
You see change?
It’s scary.
Its messy.
It’s not aesthetic, and it’s certainly not demure or cutesy.
It doesn't tick the neatly drawn boxes in that journal or essay you wrote in high school about who you wanted to be in ten years time.
It's humbling.
Confusing.
It takes your breath away in ways you never expected and still leaves you coming back for more.
THAT, is where I'm at.
I'm changing. But, I'm also learning.
I'm learning to BE.
To break,
To fail,
To breathe,
To show up,
To be kind, not only to others, but to myself too,
To take a break and not feel guilty(spoiler, I still do).
I'm learning to be a beginner at everything.
At life, and graphics design too( quite humbling, if I might add).
I'm learning to BE.
That's the best way I can put it.
I'm learning the effortless rhythms of grace in a world gone rogue.
I'm learning to breathe again.
I'm learning. To BE.
Lastly, I leave you with the words of a wise woman.
There's a kind of becoming that doesn't make noise. It doesn't announce itself or ask for permission.
It just begins softly, like mist folding into morning, like a peel loosening from an onion, one thin layer at a time.
Remember,
You're not broken. You're becoming.
You're not lost. You're in transit.
You're not alone. You're surrounded by grace - even when you can't feel it.
So, breathe. Be.
There's a space between endings and arrivals. Be good to yourself until you arrive.
Yours,
In love and in change,
Wuraola.
A song, for you♡
Hi wuraola...thank you so much for this 😍