Tuesday, February 16th will be my ninth anniversary living in Miami.
Nine years ago was was an incredibly difficult time for me. I had a one-year old, I was emotionally crushed and in the middle of a divorce, I left my beloved Brooklyn and my dear friends. I moved here to be closer to family. I was heartbroken, lost, and thought I would have to settle in a city that circumstances chose for me.
It was rough. Really rough.
You know how many times I told that story in my life?
Too. Many. F*ckin. Times.
That's how many.
Every time I would bring it up, I would feel the weight and sadness of it. The emotional charge was palpable. I would feel my righteousness. All the unresolved anger of that time. It kept me from making a real home here. It kept me feeling like a victim.
It took a lot of years to see it, heal it, and recognize that I had allowed that story to define me for far too long. It took a lot of years to cry what I didn't cry then. To give myself the love I didn't know how to give myself then. To acknowledge and own the beautiful life I've created for me and my son here.
Plus, it was really, really embarrassing for me to admit to myself that I had kept that story in such a defining role in my life so many years later.
That old story kept me small. It was holding me hostage.
It was simply a moment of my life.
It does not define me.
Today, I get to tell a new story...
And now here's my invitation to you:
If there's a victim story you keep repeating to yourself, start with being aware. How do you feel when you or others bring it up? What are you choosing to give your energy to?
Maybe it's time to see it through, to face it, to heal it, to claim your power back.
Here's to new, loving, and empowered stories that light your way.