this is really my life

Today I woke up from a nap and had a revelation:

“This is my life.  This is who I really am.”

Since I can remember, I have been waiting for my life to begin.  I have been waiting to figure out who I am, waiting for my life to happen, feeling an odd sense of disconnect from the reality of my life. Suddenly I realize this: I have already made my mark. Who I am has been long established.  I am embedded in the memory of each person I have connected with in my 33 years in this world.  I am unveiled. I find it funny that I am perhaps among the last to realize this simple truth. This is the real me. This is my life.

I have a unfamiliar sense of comfort in this new revelation. Suddenly I realize that I don’t have to try so hard anymore.  I don’t have to pretend. It is safe to be me.

There are people who know the real me and love me, anyway. They have seen me without makeup on, in a messy house, when I am frazzled, when I am caught up in one of my many dreams, when I yell at my husband for using the wrong milk in the oatmeal.  Having those people is indescribably special.  It proves to me that I am lovable.

I am working towards being one of those people (who knows the real me and loves me, anyway).

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