A Snowy Day for Reflection

I haven't written anything in a while. Lately, I've been dealing with my new role as a mother and my budding entrepreneurial pursuits. I dolled up my Twitter, might put some brownies in the oven, and I will definitely worry about everything that is wrong with this picture.

Not matter how many times I read The Bed of Procrustes or I reach out to my mentor, I can't find peace or a minute of comfort. My intuition knows better. I just feel as though something is missing and someone is doing wrong. And, as I look at this gnawing gut-feeling painted on my face, I realize just how much I've lost, and how much more I will continue to lose if I don't say something.

I try to smile. I try to see the other side, but the other side isn't there. Something is excruciatingly wrong. I think I know what it is. For so long, I existed in this bubble of relativity. "We can never be certain", they say. Even though the truth is staring them down. The most certain people maintain this undeniable fear under their masks of false knowledge. So much truth is being unveiled, and I can't help but feel anger at those who have worked tirelessly to deny my humanity and existence as a self-owning individual. I just want to have faith in myself again; To have drive again; To fight this urge to destroy myself.