I’ve had anxiety most of my life. I have been at war with my uterus for decades. But I did not learn this lesson until my father died in 2013.
For months after his passing from pancreatic cancer, I could not say “My dad died.” I used every vague suggestion in the book (“When my father left,” “He’s no longer with us”) It wasn’t until I finally said the words aloud, to myself and others, that the pain was released.
It wasn’t until I was willing to be vulnerable that I was able to grow strong.
I have anxiety. I have started menopause. I am learning every day to be compassionate and less judgemental.
I am a work in progress and stronger for it.
Find your voice. Use it. Be vulnerable.