Unshakeable

The truth is,
to become unshakeable,
you have to be broken.
Layer by layer.
Part by part.
Cracked.
All the way down to your core.
All your wounds,
exposed.

Then,
you must choose.
To armor more,
to let the cracks turn to scars,
the skin thicker than before.
Or,
To let go.
To open up.
To shed your skin.
Each layer disintegrating
into nothingness.

To become unshakeable,
you invite death in.
Forgetting who you were,
to remember who you are.

It is in the stillness of winter,
the hush of the snowflakes,
the whisper of the trees,
where peace is found.

And in the quiet,
standing naked,
you become free.

****************

At the beginning of the year, when I told a therapist “I want to become unshakeable, but not in the narcissistic kind of way”, I wanted it to mean that I just had to believe in myself, to be confident, and then I could achieve the things I wanted to. But really, becoming unshakeable meant: achieve nothing, fail at everything. It meant losing labels, money, physical ability, and almost all of my hope. It meant praying on my knees (or in the fetal position), picking myself off the floor, and facing the long standing belief of never being enough, in the midst of my woes. It was fighting for myself, the child within, who had been conditioned with the belief she was unworthy, to repent, but regardless, that she could never be enough, who was controlled by the stories of the shadowed priests in her mind. It was holding onto the thread, the chosen thought gifted to me my Obi-wan “that isn’t me.” I am not my thoughts, my fears, my pain. I am the love that lies underneath. Becoming unshakeable meant throwing all of my love at my wounds, all of my love to the little girl who had learned not to trust herself. Demanding that I was enough, money or not, trophies or not, boyfriend or not. It was me coming back to my truth…that I was, always, inherently enough. The rest just lies and fear. Even when the anxiety came back again, choosing to see through the illusions, my protections, and leaning into both love and my enough-ness. It was becoming nothing to remember I was everything.