Why is so hard at times to accept the truth of who I am? I often find myself comparing who I am to other people. I wish that I could open up and make friends more easily, like Eddie. I wish I had the discipline to get myself to a yoga studio and do an hour and a half practice every night for two months, like Tiff. If only I had the initiative with my writing to submit pieces for publication, then maybe I would be on my way to a dream career.

In having this kind of thinking, I’m really judging myself and putting myself down, rather than accepting and celebrating the uniqueness of me. So here it is…the truth about who I am. A start, at least. Out loud (on paper). The silly little nuances and the bigger ideals that create a complete picture of me.

I need rest, lots of rest. Eight hours a night is necessary and I’m not a night owl. As much as I may want to stay up and hang out with friends on weekends, if I want to feel good and stay healthy, I need my sleep. For a long time, I struggled with this. I would try to stay out late and push my body to limits that I knew were too far. It resulted in me getting sick. I spent a good portion of a four-year period in my life sick because I did not listen to the wisdom of my body. I know better now and listen with respect to the messages that my body gives me.

I crave alone time and get very irritable if I don’t have enough time by myself. I need time to read and to write, to do yoga, to meditate, to sit with myself and just be. Everyday, I need little breaks, time-outs, so that I can retreat and replenish. Ten minutes in the church on campus to deepen my breathing and clear my mind. A twenty-minute walk in between jobs so that I can mentally let go of my day at job one. Five minutes to an hour when I get home to transition from the work world to my home life. And then I need longer chunks of time on the weekends to create or journal or just think.

I love writing. My dream is to be a published author who works from home. However, this dream scares me. I doubt my writing talent and ability. How do I know if I’m any good? I worry about being naked, exposed if I do get published or about hurting others if I’m truthful in my writing. Yet I know that when I sit down to write, time becomes irrelevant. I am content with me and the computer or my mind with pen and paper.

I am a sensitive being. My emotional body is very susceptible to the energy of others. In the past, I have allowed the energy of others to seep into myself, morphing me into their emotional state. I have to be very conscious and aware of creating space around myself, so that I separate my emotions from those of another being. I am learning to do this and am getting much better at it. And the truth is, I like being sensitive. I like that I am aware and intuitive about others and myself. Expressing emotions comes easily and naturally to me and while I do cry my fair share and raise my voice in anger, I am releasing the energy of the emotions. It keeps me honest. If something is wrong, I can’t hide it. That’s one place where I don’t hide.

I am deep. I crave depth in my relationships. But I have a hard time trusting people, so it’s extremely difficult to create meaningful relationships because I don’t often give people a chance to truly know me. It’s been so long since I’ve made a new, deep connection that I don’t even know how to go about doing it now. (And I feel silly, like I’m a child, when I admit this). What I want is a circle of trusted friends who can have conversations about spirituality and what we believe in. I want to be surrounded by people who aren’t afraid to be transparent, to be honest about mistakes and failures and embarrassments as well as accomplishments and dreams. I want more than surface talk about jobs and the weather and what’s happening this weekend. I want to know what moves people’s soul. Yet my own worries and inability to completely reveal myself to others hinders the creation of these types of bonds. I don’t know how to have this dream realized in my life. Which makes me sad.

And yet, I already have a handful of deep relationships that do satisfy me. I was blessed with a large family and have a brother and sisters who all care fiercely about one another and can have these kinds of meaningful conversations. It amazes me that as different as we all are in terms of interests and beliefs and dreams and goals, that we still share such a strong bond. The love that radiates between us flows up from a seemingly endless well inside each of us. For this, I know that I am extremely lucky. I have Eddie, a man who sees the truth of all that I am, who saw and realized it before I even did, who has stood by me while I figured it all out. Eddie, who lets me do what I need to do and supports my struggle to grow into myself, even when it impacts his life and our relationship. In Eddie, I have someone who knows the deep depths of my soul and loves me because of what he sees there.

I struggle. Mainly, I struggle with accepting who I am and I’m not really sure why. I know that there are so many gifts I have to offer to others and the world. I feel strongly rooted in the knowledge that I have a purpose in my life and that it will be fulfilled. So why do I continue to resist, to fall back into old and unhelpful patterns in my life? Maybe because I’ve only recently figured out who I am and what I want in life. Perhaps I need to give myself a break and acknowledge that I am where I am in my process. And that’s just fine.

I over-think and analyze too often. I’ve gotten better about this, but it still happens. Rather than trusting myself and my intuition, I question whether I’m making the right choices. I ask everyone else’s opinion, instead of listening to what I know will be right for me. I am working on this, learning to take time to follow my own inner guidance, rather than looking outside of myself for answers.

Most of all, I am an optimist who believes that if we tune into ourselves and pay attention, we will begin to see that life is full of serendipitous moments that are meant to bring us closer to fulfilling our dreams. I have to remind myself time and again to stop. To come back into my body, to pay attention to the rush of cold San Francisco wind on my face, to notice the smell of freshly baked bread as I pass by the patisserie on my way to work, or to feel the dewy grass as it brushes my toes when I walk through it. When I can bring myself out of my mind and back into my body, then I am able to live in each moment, instead of getting caught up in the chatter of my mind, that takes me far from where I am. More and more often, I remind myself. This is who I am and where I am right now. I am content in this moment.