I Was Broken, Beaten, And Defeated. Now I'm Free.

Once upon a time, I was the girl in the Hello Kitty socks with a bike lock for a belt, riding in the basket of a grocery cart, laughing like a patient in a padded room.

I was alive, free, passionate, and unafraid. 

I miss that girl. 

The years have vacuumed the glitter from her soul. She's become but a gray-toned shell of the once-sparkly rainbow shining in the wake of a sun shower. 

 Somewhere along the way, I lost her. 

I stopped marveling at the little things. The glimmers in my day. Through the years, I've allowed myself to be bombarded by judgment and criticism, and let those critiques fester in my heart, chipping away at my spirit. There's only so much negativity one can take before closing off the part of them that elicits judgment. Having to defend your opinions and decisions at every corner is soul-crushing. That's not to say there haven't been moments of glee. You can still catch me in a Chewbacca onesie on occasion. I still snort when I laugh, though it's rare.  These moments are infrequent and more often than not feel forced, but I've recently started studying authenticity and I have committed to returning to my more authentic self.

So, here we are. At a crossroads. 

In one direction lies more of the same, and in the other is the unknown. 

I am running toward the unknown. 

I am choosing myself. I am pursuing joy, whether it exists down the path I follow is yet to be seen. 

I have started defying the criticism and doing the things that make me happy. I chase the sunset on the beach, drive for a chance to catch a glimpse of the northern lights, and let my bare skin feel the sting of snow. 

I am free.