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Mess.

I am going to go back. I am going to back to the beginning. The beginning of my Mess.

We’re friends now right? I can tell you my story. Well, not all of it.  Just the main points. The details take too long and seem a little one sided.  So let’s start with how I met Mess.

I was given this nick name by a dear friend and out of all the names I have had in my life; this one stuck. I am Mess. I embrace this name. It describes me in a various states.  I’m called this more often than my given name. I respond to it because if you call me by Mess it means you know me. You’ve seen me in my Mess.

Ten years ago, my Mess was lost, lonely and confused. Mess was trying to be a good wife, a good mom and please everyone. PLEASE EVERYONE. It didn’t work.  It never does. The trying to make everyone happy.  I was in a fog. I had no idea who she was or what color I liked.

I would say “I’m sorry” for things I didn’t do and then apologize for apologizing.

Feeling like a I was a burden, feeling like I too much. Being hurt. It all made me guarded. It slowed me down in life. It felt like I was dragging something behind me all the time. What I was carrying was the weight of how someone else made me feel. I took it all on. I felt I had no choice because maybe if I was….or if I had only did…

Now like most instants like this, this isn’t unique. It’s just part of a story that carries us forward; not without side kicks that stand with me.

Helpers. They see you. They saw me. They called me to see my truth.

Sometimes they arrive carrying whiskey and cigars.

In my Mess I  was told this:
“You need to put down that cross. It is not yours to carry. That one is hard and doesn’t move or bend. Your cross is flexible. It moves. It shifts. It bends. That one is yours.”

Mess stood up. She stood the fuck up and she looked at me. She looked at me and said “okay that’s enough. I’m gonna need you to step up now.”

I embraced Mess. She embraced me. She was always with me. I just had pushed her down. That part of me that is brave and fierce.  We merged. We put down what wasn’t ours to carry and moved forward.

There is a freedom that comes with finally not giving a shit. When you finally start to like yourself. No, love yourself. I am this imperfectly perfect human and I embrace my Mess.

We all have moments where we feel helpless. We feel like we must  do whatever it takes to keep the peace. 

That feeling in your gut. If it feels off and you can’t quite put your finger on it. That’s your sign.  That’s the sign you aren’t being true to you. You’re the sock in the dryer that keeps going around and around.

Now Mess and me? We’re a different character. I no longer shrink back. Every time I step forward into who I am; I stand a little taller. Every time I walk away from something that isn’t serving me; I smile.

This Mess. This Mess has now become my Message.