New Spaces
I've been putting off starting a new blog for a while now.
I think mostly because I was afraid. I want this blog to be a space of real honesty and vulnerability, and I was afraid I couldn't commit to fearlessly showing up and telling the truth. Sometimes I'm still not sure I can. I held the dream of this blog, this space, this idea of Gilead in my head for a long time and it never felt like the right time. I could always justify waiting, always claiming that there was someone out there who could say the things that needed to be said better than I could.
But here's the thing. There can be the same story told a million different ways but in the end you still get a million different stories. No one can say what I can say the way I can say it. No one has the same outlook on the world as I do. This blog is to be just that, my story. It is my act of brave, my fearless showing up to this one, beautiful life I have been given.
I blogged at mercymiracle for a while, probably long past when I should have. I started the blog in my early teen years and it served as a way of communicating with the world. I started with ramblings, and then I began to find my voice. I wrote my way through a long season of being undiagnosed, through the beginnings of my healing process and coming to terms with childhood sexual abuse and trauma, my issues with food and body image. I wrote as I entered into the deconstruction of my faith, about the early moments of falling in love with the man who would one day become my husband. And somewhere near the end of it all it stopped feeling right. I tried reinventing a couple of times, trying to pour life back into something that had already served its purpose. There was no room for me left there.
I had this nudging, a little voice that told me to start over, to find the courage to try again. I needed new space to spread my wings, fresh air to breathe. It was time to shed the old and embrace something new. The idea of starting over, even in this tiny way, scared me. In a way it mirrors so much of my life. This season is about putting off the old and embracing a new way of being. Its putting aside what I formerly believed in my faith and sifting through it to find something new. Its healing the trauma that resides in my body and moving into this new space of freedom.
The idea for this space has been a long time coming. Its a movement for me, a step into freedom and healing. Its why I chose the name - the idea of a place of healing has resonated in me for so long. Words, and writing, have always been that to me. Healing. Cathartic.
I hope you find here the same thing I do - the healing of old wounds, space to breathe, the knowledge that you are not alone. In the end we are all just walking each other home.
Thank you for holding space for my story, dear friend. I am holding space for you as we walk together in this place of healing
I think mostly because I was afraid. I want this blog to be a space of real honesty and vulnerability, and I was afraid I couldn't commit to fearlessly showing up and telling the truth. Sometimes I'm still not sure I can. I held the dream of this blog, this space, this idea of Gilead in my head for a long time and it never felt like the right time. I could always justify waiting, always claiming that there was someone out there who could say the things that needed to be said better than I could.
But here's the thing. There can be the same story told a million different ways but in the end you still get a million different stories. No one can say what I can say the way I can say it. No one has the same outlook on the world as I do. This blog is to be just that, my story. It is my act of brave, my fearless showing up to this one, beautiful life I have been given.
I blogged at mercymiracle for a while, probably long past when I should have. I started the blog in my early teen years and it served as a way of communicating with the world. I started with ramblings, and then I began to find my voice. I wrote my way through a long season of being undiagnosed, through the beginnings of my healing process and coming to terms with childhood sexual abuse and trauma, my issues with food and body image. I wrote as I entered into the deconstruction of my faith, about the early moments of falling in love with the man who would one day become my husband. And somewhere near the end of it all it stopped feeling right. I tried reinventing a couple of times, trying to pour life back into something that had already served its purpose. There was no room for me left there.
I had this nudging, a little voice that told me to start over, to find the courage to try again. I needed new space to spread my wings, fresh air to breathe. It was time to shed the old and embrace something new. The idea of starting over, even in this tiny way, scared me. In a way it mirrors so much of my life. This season is about putting off the old and embracing a new way of being. Its putting aside what I formerly believed in my faith and sifting through it to find something new. Its healing the trauma that resides in my body and moving into this new space of freedom.
The idea for this space has been a long time coming. Its a movement for me, a step into freedom and healing. Its why I chose the name - the idea of a place of healing has resonated in me for so long. Words, and writing, have always been that to me. Healing. Cathartic.
I hope you find here the same thing I do - the healing of old wounds, space to breathe, the knowledge that you are not alone. In the end we are all just walking each other home.
Thank you for holding space for my story, dear friend. I am holding space for you as we walk together in this place of healing
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