I feel more than see the mascara making its way down my now cold and wet cheeks. My eyes sting as the makeup melts through tears I hadn't expected. I squint, reaching for the box sitting on my coffee table, closing my eyes as I rub a tissue from it onto them, entirely worsening my mascara situation.
Sometimes you just remember shit you've been through, you know? This is one of those times.
When I started my blog several years ago, it was intense. My first entry was "I was raped," and I followed that up with many a transparent story about suicidal ideation and trauma. It was impactful. I wrote while I was in it, and that raw pain let others know they weren't alone. I gave a real-time glimpse into what I then called mental illness and now call mental health struggles.
I love the work I do now and am an open book. Sometimes I wonder, though, if it's important to talk about what it was like when I was in it. Beyond building the dreams and the goals, beyond simply saying I went from suicidal and traumatized to thriving and limitless. When you're still in it, that idea can feel so far away.
And I was so far away.
Pictured: Me, epically crying so much my mascara doesn't even exist anymore.
Today I'm remembering how much it hurts. I'm feeling that pain. I am so aware of the pain in the world around me as people struggle everyday with wounds, scars, and weights that feel like burdens. And those pains feel so heavy. I know.
Sometimes I wonder how the fuck I'm here. I ask myself how I made it through. Sometimes I feel afraid that I'm wrong, that I haven't made it through, that this is just a temporary stage of health, wellness, and stability.
I chose to save my life. At first, every single step I took felt like a step too far. Trusting this idea that things could get better felt foolish. I felt like I was opening myself up to the possibility of even more pain. I made the choice anyways. And I built and I built and I built and that's how I'm here.
When I finally found myself surviving, I knew there was more out there. I shattered the ceiling. I let myself trust in the possibility of thriving. I let myself trust in the possibility that after rape, abuse, and 15 years of on-and-off suicidal ideation, I could let it all go and stride into my dreams.
This is why I do the work that I do. There's a life beyond our open wounds and there's a life beyond survival. I'm here to take you there. Golden Stars is a space for you to feel held while you place your trust in bigger and bigger possibilities for yourself.
Nothing will ever be as hard as saving my own life. Taking the leap of faith that it would work out required the most blind trust I've ever put into anything. That trust and the actions I took because of it led me here, now, writing to you, living out my purpose and holding the space for you as you live out yours.
Underneath the struggles, the pains, and the wounds, we are all Golden Stars. It's time for you to shine your very brightest.
If you're ready to shine your brightest, schedule a free video chat with me or message me on Instagram and let's talk about how you can make the transformation from Survivor to Thriver.