To the people who loved me when I was a mess

Thank you for convincing me I needed to eat even when we both knew I was going to get sick on it. Thank you for being on the phone with me to vent while I was crying and I’m not sure if you heard one word, but you still said “I know.” Thank you for convincing me to sit down when I started to get dizzy. Thank you for worrying about me and checking in 4,5,6 times a day when you had your own things to worry about.

I was bombarded by life. Bombarded by God throwing a million things at me and I could not handle it. The emotions. The numbness. The feeling in the pit of my stomach. But you never stopped being there for me. And by you, there is more than one. But this is for you all. You each helped me in one way or another. You each gave me advice and care that I didn’t know I needed. You gave me this when I felt like I didn’t deserve it from the way I was so bombarded.

When I was in college, there was a security guard who was in my dorm building. And every day I would ask him how his day was and he would say “I woke up, people love me, and I’m healthy. But how are you?” I would always reply great and go back to my room realizing how maybe I was not so great. One day with a tear in my eye from the stresses of every day at fashion school, we had this encounter once more. But this time, he stopped me. He told me I was too pretty, too smart, too successful to cry. He made me tell him what was going on. And I gave the (much) shorter version of everything life threw at me at this time. He smiled and asked if I had time to talk. So we talked. He told me a story that often I forget to think about when life throws a lot at me.

“One day, a donkey on a farm got stuck in a deep hole. The farmer came by and tried everything to get the donkey out, but knew he couldn’t and didn’t have the right equipment to get him out. Reluctantly, he knew he would have to bury his donkey since he could not be saved. The farmer kept throwing dirt into the hole. He refused to look at the donkey and just kept throwing. Shovel full by shovel full. Over and over. The donkey however, didn’t let that be his death. Every shovel full, the donkey shook off the dirt. He was thirsty, hungry, and tired, but never stopped. What the farmer did not realize is he was actually helping his donkey. The more dirt he threw, the more it was filling up the hole and helping the donkey get up all on his own. Every shovel the farmer was feeling worse and the donkey had more H O P E. All of a sudden, just when the hole was closer to the top, the farmer looked up because he heard a noise and there was his donkey.”

I remember this wonderful man asking me to tell him what I felt about it. And my tears were gone. I was feeling the HOPE again. He told me no matter how big the hole is that you got yourself stuck in, or how much dirt keeps getting thrown your way, just shake it off and step over it. Eventually that hole will be filled and you will be out. One day that will be something you can tell someone about. How you got yourself out of that and over it. The best piece of advice he gave me? The one piece that stuck to me the most?

If you let the dirt being thrown at you, hurt you, change you, or kill you, then you are the donkey and you are an ass. Let the people who are throwing the dirt be upset and shocked when you come out in victory

They always say life isn’t about what you know, but who you know. Didn’t realize how accurate that was until I was faced with it myself. I can tell you every cliche under the stars on how to get over a situation. But when it’s you, everything doesn’t seem right. Nothing seems right!

Thank you for letting me say what I needed. No matter what was said. Thank you for letting me yell, cry, laugh, question the world and you not bringing everything back up. It was over. Done.

Thank you for letting me talk about what happened to me. Thank you for not judging me with how my emotions were. Thank you for letting me remember the triggers and writing them down so I’m faced with them myself. Damn I felt stupid for being afraid they come out, but it’s my past. And your past is your history whether you like it or not. Getting triggered and reliving your own shitty situations sucks. Majorly. But you didn’t care that I was bringing it up. You reminded me my feelings are valid and that I am stronger so it isn’t the same.

Thank you for being there at 5 am when I had a panic attack and just holding me to make sure I’m OK. Thank you for helping me calm down and thank you for reassuring me that all will be OK. “It’s a crappy week for you. You let your emotions run. It will be OK” I can’t remember how many times I heard that.

Thank you for realizing I’m still painting on a smile. Thank you for realizing I still am not 100% OK like I was. Thank you for seeing that and calling me out. Thank you for realizing that every day gets better.

I guess there are not enough words in the dictionary to thank my tribe. My tribe of people in my life who fight with me. They are behind me if I fall, next to me to fight with me, and in front of me to protect me. I guess I never really knew what having a tribe meant. I never knew what it meant for people to really be there when you needed it the most. As much as these people made me a warrior again, I know they did it because I have done it for them and would in a heartbeat all over again.

I thought things would never pass. I thought I would feel stuck and yet here I am climbing my way out of the hole with one shovel full of dirt at a time.

No pasa nada. Te amo ❤️

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