Learning to have faith in myself…

Last night I asked my mother for guidance because I feel lost and I’m tired of running from everyone and everything. I begged her to speak to me or at least give me a sign.

I woke up this morning still suspended in my half-dream world but I remembered pretty much everything. Throughout the course of the dream, I confronted all of my feelings at once: anxiety, abandonment, rejection, unworthiness, hopelessness, and fear.

I believe my mother was telling me to not be scared of that which I cannot see–my future. I think she wants me to see how sick I’m making myself by fighting against the uncertainty of the future. She understands why I’m so cautious about moving forward.

As always Mom–you are right. I’m still that girl at Hilton Head Island that was too frightened to step into the Atlantic Ocean because I couldn’t be 100 percent positive about what was in the water. I guess now I’m afraid to step into the metaphorical ocean without your reassurance that it’s okay, that I will be okay. But then I see a reflection of your beautiful smile after I plunged into the water and sighed with relief, “Thanks, Mom. Thank you for making me face my fears.” No matter how many times I would tell myself I wasn’t ready for something, you always reminded me that I was if I just had a little more faith in myself.

I can feel you reassuring me that it’s okay to still feel like I need you no matter how many years it’s been since you left your physical form. You want me to know that it’s okay to be a twenty-three year old mess because you were too…you just never had the chance to tell me about.

You want me to know that I don’t have to be afraid to admit when I’m having a rough go at life. You want me to embrace my creativity (in all its many forms) because it will save my life. You want me to know that you love me, even when it was unclear if that was true. And I love you too, Mom.

I’ll always love you too, Mom.

Love,

Your Chicken #3

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