growth and passion

{{ This post is part of #reverb10, an annual event and month-long online initiative to reflect on this year and manifest what's next for 2011.

Today's prompt: One word.  Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word.  Explain why you're choosing that word.  Now, imagine it's one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you? }}

 {via}

2010 has been a pivotal year for me.  Letting go of toxic friendships.  Investing more in healthier friendships.  Committing to therapy.  Getting back in the dating game.  Discovering my passion to make a difference in this world.  Learning what it means to live life on my own terms.  

How do I describe this year in one word?  GROWTH.

I was one of those people who thought I had all the answers.  I thought I could fix anything, do anything, and work through pain on my own.  But then I found myself sitting on my bathroom floor at 2AM on a Tuesday night in March, sobbing uncontrollably.  I knew why I was crying, but I didn't want to admit it.  Because when you admit something and put it out there, it becomes real.  Seven years of not grieving properly for my mother, and fifteen years of not grieving properly for my father, had finally caught up to me.  I knew it was time to seek professional help.  I knew it was finally time to work through my pain and grieve for my parents.  It takes courage to see a therapist, and I truly admire any person who has sought professional help.

It's been eight months of therapy and I didn't think I would get here.  To a point in my life where my heart doesn't constantly ache over losing my parents.  To accept the fact that, yes, this is my life, and be okay with it.  I still have bad days and bad moments.  My heart still aches, but the pain has subsided a bit.  I still miss them, and will always miss them. I've grown tremendously over this last year through acknowledgment and acceptance and it feels wonderful.


This time, next year...

I want to be passionate.  About my career.  About graduate school.  About my friendships.  About my life.  I want my passion to resonate in those around me and inspire others to make a change, conquer a fear, and live passionately.   

How would you encapsulate your year in one word?  And how do you hope to describe your 2011?

it's about accepting and owning the many pieces of your life

(via)

I sat there, talking about Elizabeth Gilbert, Jennifer Lancaster, David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs.  

"I just can't find my voice." I said, "all of those authors talk about the detailed intimacies of their lives like it's no big deal."

"And why do you think that is?" she asked me.

I thought about it for a second.  "I don't know."

"What do all of those writers have in common?" she asked.  

The questions were getting a little annoying, but I know she was trying to get me to see the bigger picture.

"Me.  Because I read their books."  I smiled.  As she let out a laugh, I knew that probably wasn't the answer she was looking for.  

And then it hit me.  

It's about owning and accepting your life.  

...Accepting your past in order to get to your brighter future...

...Owning the mistakes you've made, the lessons you've learned and the experiences you've witnessed first-hand when you tell your story...

I've never been good with the whole acceptance thing.  Unless it's money or alcohol related.

Why yes, I will graciously accept that crisp $100 bill that I see poking out of your zipper wallet so you can buy me a drink.

See?  Easy acceptance.  

But accepting the dark and scary stuff?  It's too hard.  

TWSS.

As much as people tell me how brave and strong of a woman I am, I am embarrassed about my past.  The reality is, people look at me differently - whether in a good way or a bad way - and I hate that.  I hate being that girl with a broken past.  I know it's something I should be proud of, but I can't get myself to that point yet.  I can't accept how my life has turned out.  Which leads to the failure of owning it.  Which also leads to the failure of completing my memoir.

I've been working on my memoir a lot lately and I realized that I can't find my "voice" until I own my past.  David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs are such great writers and they write about the intimate details of their life because they have accepted and owned up to it.   

I want to get there, I just don't know how.

Where's "there?"

You know, there.  That point in life where you are completely comfortable.  You don't cringe when you have to recapture those tragic moments of your life.  You don't feel embarrassed when the only reply you get is, "I'm sorry." or "That sucks."  You don't feel judged or criticized.  You just feel... you.

I know getting there is a long, slow process.  It takes understanding and accepting the smaller things (like accepting the act of suicide before volunteering with suicide prevention) to accept the bigger things.  It's difficult to accept certain things in life that you feel you could have changed.  Or even prevented.  At 12 years old, I feel like I could have done or said something to change my father's decision.  I felt like I should have done something, even though none of us had any idea something was wrong with him.

Acceptance and ownership could be the missing pieces of my happiness, but at least I know I'm on the right track of getting there.  And one day, I'll be able to own my story.  And my memoir.