I have withered in silence and shame for too long. I have tried to be normal. I have tried to be perfect. The problem is that normal and perfect are different to everyone. So I have morphed, like a chameleon, into whatever version of perfect or normal my current audience requires of me. I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to figure out who I am; what is my perfect normal?

Shame is a poison we all drink every day, particularly women. Some days I think I drink it more than others but that’s likely just narcissism. I grew up catholic and shame is part of our worship tradition. I have lived in the shame bubble for so long, I’m not even sure when I should feel shame versus not. I have begun to realize that I’m using shame as a shield. Using shame to continue doing as I’ve done despite knowing better. I use shame to hide and to continue my silence.

I want redemption. I want to dig down deep and figure out who God wants me to be. Who I want me to be. Who I was born to be. I’ve always knows that redemption would come through writing. But my shame and silence prevented my fingers from working across the keyboard.

I realize I must tell my story. The fear that no one will connect with my story is very real. The stories I want to tell about men I’ve allowed to abuse me, about my mental health (or lack thereof) and the all-out war I’d like to wage on every diagnosis I have ever received, about my 100-pound weight gain and loss, about my family and friends that love me despite and because of all that I am, about my five year old nephew that fights for his life every day and is my hero, all these stories have finally filled to the brim and are pouring over. I have to get them out despite the shame and embarrassment and disgust.

I haven’t written in a long while. So please forgive my poor sentence structure, my grammar misses, my nonsensical rambling. I have fallen. This is my attempt to get up.

-With Love, PN

PS – I’m actually funny sometimes. This first post doesn’t display that because I’m just not in the mood. However, one thing I know for sure is that full belly laughter is a gateway to healing….and there will be plenty of that as well.