Six years ago I left an abusive relationship. I went to the gym every day after work, and lifted for hours. 

I lifted for hours so that when I got home I was too tired to do anything except fall into bed. This seemed like a better alternative to drinking a bottle of wine by myself every night. 

Nearly four years ago I moved to L.A., and three months after my arrival I found myself dealing with life in a new city across the country from my family and yet another breakup. I went to the gym every day to work. I trained clients at 5 in the morning, 9 at night, and anywhere and everywhere between. I didn’t take days off.

I worked like a maniac because it seemed like a better alternative to drinking a bottle of wine by myself every night. I feared downtime like the devil.

A year and a half ago my mom died and I pretty much drank a bottle of wine every night. This seemed like a better alternative to feeling my feelings. I couldn’t, the pain was unbearable.

Since the loss of my mom, I have been going through a slow thaw. 

Being faced with another loss this week has allowed me to see how much I’ve changed. I’m not drinking, I’m not over-working or over-working out. Instead, I’m feeling my feelings. And I’m grieving like I’ve never grieved. 

Instead of numbing out, I’m reaching out to God.

Instead of avoiding the pain, I’m avoiding distractions.

Instead of resisting, I’m letting it in.

I have finally gotten to a place where I can honor myself. 

The mad, sad, glad, fear, and shame. I honor all of it because it’s all in me.