Posts in Self Love
Stop Denying

Maybe the experiences we have in life that knock us down slowly take away our joy.  Then, if we don’t have the tools to heal ourselves we just keep forging forward without trying to get back to the place that initially made us so happy.  I get so juiced up when people tell me their passions and what their “dream job” or life would look like.  Then, inevitably, just as fast as they have spoken joy, I hear them say “but that will never happen.”  I want to grab a megaphone and shout in their faces “why the hell not?!” Honestly, the only person holding you back from achieving your goals and working your dream job (purpose) is you.  I know this may be painful to hear, but I was in that EXACT situation where I believed I couldn’t make my dreams come true.  The thing is, you have to be ready to stop accepting that your current situation and past does not have to define you, and then admit that living your purpose is not just a possibility but a reality.  It takes a lot of inner work, but one of the ways that I like to start off beginning that work is to "stop denying" and answer some questions about yourself.

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Discovering Lydia

I always thought that I would be a mother. I grew up having this vision of the white picket fence, the charming husband, and children running around my yard as I stand there with a ten-mile smile and a pie in my hand calling everyone in for dinner. I couldn’t have been more far off with the understanding of what I actually wanted for myself. I grew up with very Christian views that this was the way things were supposed to be. You could say that I have mixed feelings about Christianity right now. I believe in God; however, I am not so partial to the limited belief system. Because of the people that I chose to surround myself with there was an understanding that you DID NOT have sex before you were married and that there was only one special person out there for you.

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I'm Depressed

Imagine, a small box just slightly bigger than your body, made of shatterproof glass.  You are placed into this box, and the box is sealed up.  You have just enough room to shift your body around slightly, but you can't stand up, and your arms and feet are snug against your core.  But before you were placed into the box, you were given a drink that was designed to make your heart race just fast enough to make you feel sick to your stomach but not entirely break a sweat.  Imagine now that the air in the box is getting thin.  You want to escape the box but you cant, but you can see the fresh, clean air all around you, after all, the box is glass.  Now, you get to sit there as your insides start to burn, and the only thing that you think you can do to escape is crawl out of your own skin.  You feel trapped, you feel helpless, you are out of breath, and there is nothing that you can do.  THIS is anxiety.

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The Beginning

A little about myself, now that I've dragged you through emotional turmoil to get to this point, my name is Chelsea.  I have a 3-year-old daughter, a husband who is emotionally opposite of myself, two cats that are more trouble than cuddly, and a cute little home built in the 70's that still reflects the 70s' (wood paneling and all).  I started writing "I am a wife, a mom" blah blah blah, but then I realized I don't feel like those are the pieces of me that make me who I am.  That might be uncomfortable for some of you mommas and wifeys out there. That's fine, you can be defined by whatever you want to be defined by, but for me, the pieces that make Chelsea, Chelsea, are the things that make me feel human.  So if I were to write anything that started with "I am" it would look like this: I am a conduit for love. I am a giver, a believer, a dreamer.  I am an artist of all mediums.  I am a feeler.  

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