“‘Finding yourself’ is actually returning to yourself. An unlearning, an excavation, a remembering who you were before the world got its hands on you.” ~Emily McDowell
Between becoming a mother, a spouse, and a professional woman, I lost myself.
I wouldn’t say it happened all at once or as the result of any one thing. It was more of a gradual process where I would gradually disappear under the layers and layers masks that I had to put on to become the person other people needed me to.
The caretaker.
The rescuer
The helper
The teacher.
The nurturer.
The self-sacrificing Stoic.
But who am I really? I began to believe that I was none of these things.
I felt lost, anxious and dissatisfied because my true self had been buried by years of conditioning, wounding and unhealthy coping methods. As if I were a hamster in a wheel, I went through the motions without any real purpose or understanding of why I did the things that I did.
It wasn’t until 2019, when my life came to a screeching halt, that I finally realized just how far from myself I had wandered. The light bulb went on after a major wake-up and life-changing event.
My marriage was falling apart. My anxiety was…
