Who am I?

Seriously.

Outside of all my experiences; who am I? What can I offer? I have spent my life being tied up in problems or labels. Granted these were gifted to me and were as welcome as a hole in the head but they were mine and I formed an identity around them.

Then one day when the cross became too hard to bear I decided to work through the labels and the traumas that came with them and slowly, one by one, I shed them.

That’s not to say I still don’t attach myself still to other alternative labels or problems but now it seems the attachment isn’t as strong; it is dwindling. Perhaps that’s why inspiration has become a source of angst for me as before my inspiration came from my problems, labels and traumas. Writing about them was cathartic and almost a type of therapy however those wounds have been expunged, so what now? Who am I beyond the rhetoric I attached myself to for years of my life?

My new identity has been physical pain. For the last two and half years not one day has gone by where I haven’t felt some sort of pain. It varies in extremity day to day but it’s always there. I take on physical pain as another personality and have shaped so much of my life around it that I struggle to see what my life would look like without it.

Much of my inspiration has come from various degrees of trauma and pain and although they have been difficult to live with, they have given me creative freedom. The question that has been piercing my brain slowly is: Who will I be without pain? What inspired thoughts will come to me when the identities I formed my life on now longer exist? Will I have an identity or even a voice? Does my creativeness lie only in my pain?

All these questions I’ve come to realise stems from a place of fear. Fear of failure, fear of not being good enough. I taught myself to try and find the good in every bad experience as I had my fair share of them and as much as that was a commendable thing to do, I think I have over-corrected and now am in the mindset that good things don’t just happen.

But do you know what? They do.

Good and beautiful things happen every day just because they do. When a flower blooms, when a bird sings, when the sun rises. All these things are good and beautiful. They happen because they happen and maybe that’s the ultimate takeaway from life;

Good things happen

Bad things happen

And the world keeps going round

If you can accept that, you’ve got it, kid!

Xoxo

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