Sometimes it can be so hard to be real. Shame kicks in and permeates all
that I feel and I’m left hiding something that I don’t know I’m hiding. Trying my best to wear a smile. Pretending that something inside of me isn’t bending to the breaking point.

The truth is I’ve been living each day with overwhelm, with fear, with anxiety.

I’m moving from Madison, WI to NYC in a month, and its the biggest change I’ve ever chosen. Most days I’m just so focused on overcoming fear and wondering what I have begun. I’m in a process of becoming, and it’s a process of coming undone.

And I’ve felt really alone. I’ve felt unsure of myself. I have closed myself off with judgment.

Like, somehow, I’m supposed to know how to do this. Or I should be able to do this “better.” Like, somehow, I should be more excited then I am. I should be floating when I often feel like I’m drowning instead.

But transformation is a mess, and the truth is I’m doing my best. And my best is fucking beautiful.

My best includes moments of deep aloneness followed by the choice to open up and share myself…intimately

My best includes days when I don’t want to get out of bed, afternoons spent watching movies, to creating from inspiration and putting my thoughts into poetry.

My best includes a month of feeling dizzy and going to the gym anyway.

It includes serving in the deepest way and believing in the work I do even when I’ve created something new and I don’t know the next time that I’ll get paid.

It includes having the courage to leave the only home I’ve ever known to move cross-country

to forge ahead, to expand, and build my life on possibility

My best is my choosing to follow a dream no matter how unreasonable it all may seem.

Yes, being real can be truly hard, until I choose to let go and remember I’m not alone

because all that I am, you are.