Do we lose bits and pieces of ourselves as we go?
Day after day I wake up missing the me that used to be, sometimes forgetting that life’s lessons can be both demeaning and liberating to our current, most alive selves.
I’ve grown to understand myself as a bit of a hoarder - wearing a pair of shoes for years and storing them in my closet, torn and scuffed. They’re my shoes and so they shall forever remain! Until recently, I’ve kept a collection of my past, tucked neatly into the corners of my mind and very packed bedroom. The freedom that I had expected from a summer’s end purge had me feeling regretful and guilty. When can we recognize the liquidity of things? Good me likes to think that we learn from our experiences, mistakes and triumphs and that we must forever move forward. Complex me likes to will my salt stained boots from the grave. Such support they gave. Such fabulous leather. Such wonderful times spent together. And so things take time..
xoxo miss regretful