One of the hardest things I’ve learned on this grief journey is showing vulnerability. Exposing myself. Raw. Naked. Truth. Option? Walls. Dark. Blocked. Hidden. Why? To be strong. I can do this. I’m okay. Yes, I can. But then. I’m not. There are moments. And I crack. The days my heart aches so badly the corners of my mouth won’t lift. My eyes are drawn. My face. An open book. Transparent. Everyone knows. So. What do I say? I’m okay? But. I’m not. So, I’ve learned to say just that. I’m not. It’s a bad day. I’m having a rough go. And I’ve learned. People embrace that vulnerability. It makes me real. I’ve learned. It’s okay to not be okay.
Writing makes me vulnerable. You see my layers. My life. Not perfect. Me? Not perfect. Gregger? Not perfect. (I know many of you are surprised!) But, as they say, we were perfect for each other. And now. I’m reassembling the pieces of my life puzzle. One day. At a time. Some days. I get it right. Other days. I struggle to make it fit. I twist and turn. I fight to push it in place. But as hard as I try, it won’t fit. Life. We struggle. We fight. We have obstacles. Hardships. But overcoming them? That’s the source of our greatest strengths.
We can’t control life. Or life’s challenges. If that were the case, I would have controlled what happened on the beach in Maui August 30th, 2014. But on that day, I had a choice. Be a victim. Or become a better version of myself. And with that comes attitude. My choice. Be negative. Or find the positive. The blessing. In every situation. And even this. My worst nightmare. Has given me the strength to find light. Love. And peace.
I am who I am. I am learning to love the new me. The me who looks at life through new glasses. I am vulnerable. Bare. Some days the tears fall. But that’s okay. Because being real. That’s all I ever want to be.
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