My Story

For much of my young life, I carried a pervasive feeling that there was something fundamentally wrong with me. I grew up surrounded by chaos and the only way I could make sense of that was, it must be me.

I worked overtime trying to correct every perceived flaw — to be ‘good’ and ‘perfect’ and ‘normal’ in the hopes that it might make things okay.

In hindsight, I’m not surprised I couldn’t sustain this. Perfection, however seductive, is a myth. I kept falling short, and eventually, it burnt me out. I knew I couldn’t shame myself into changing.

Instead, healing has been a process of softening and reconnecting. Softening the outdated armour that had once protected me and reconnecting to the parts of me I’d pushed away because I’d learned they weren’t welcome or wanted. As I sat with the aspects of myself I’d once spurned, I slowly realized that there was never anything wrong with me. That “defective” and “wrong” were messages I’d carried, but that deep down, I was fundamentally okay. And I always had been.

Knowing that took being with as much as it took talking about. It was a practice of understanding these things in my mind as well as feeling them in my body. And the more deeply and wholly I knew I was okay the easier it felt to connect with the world and people in ways that felt meaningful and important. I discovered that’s where the magic is — in meaningful connection — and I knew I wanted to make more of it.

Now, as I walk with others through their stories I embrace imperfection. I’m still human and messy and growing.

We all are.