“When the heart weeps for what is lost, the spirit laughs for what it has found.” ~ Sufi Proverb
It’s no secret that I’ve been in a relatively cranky mood lately. I’ve been acutely aware that the more negative I feel, the more negative I feel, and I’ve been calling myself out, left and right, in an effort to get back to the self that I know and love.
And then I realized something.
As much as I believe in wholehearted acceptance – in embracing the positive and the negative as equally valid and worthy – I’ve been resisting accepting myself when I am a hormonal, bloated tick with a Linda Blair rotating Exorcist head . I’ve been saying things like, “that’s not who I am” and “I don’t feel like myself.”
In those moments, I feel as if a part of me (a more child-like, care-free and optimistic part) has been lost and I fear that it’s a forever thing. These feelings go beyond what I used to experience as PMS, which I learned a long time ago feels real in the moment but always passes.
I am starting to understand, on a deeper level, what Dr. Christiane Northrup meant when she said that going through perimenopause is like giving birth to yourself. Although I don’t know what it’s like to physically give birth to someone else, I know it’s both one of the hardest and most joyous processes ever.
So now I accept that the there is no alien inhabiting my body . The hormonal stranger is not a stranger, she is me. And she’s been there my whole life, just waiting for me to embrace her. There’s something about her that scares me because she’s a little more assertive than I am used to being. She doesn’t care as much about what others think of her, or if they like her.
And yes, she amuses me.
“What if the question is not why am I so infrequently the person I really want to be, but why do I so infrequently want to be the person I really am?” ~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer
“Whatever you are doing, love yourself for doing it. Whatever you are feeling, love yourself for feeling it.” ~ Thaddeus Golas