How it started - part one

If only I could ask ChatGPT to write down my story.

Then, the story of my life would probably sound wonderful and exciting. Full of beautiful and carefully selected words to describe my journey. As a reader you would enjoy reading it. As some kind of romantic novel filled with adventure.

But no.

This is a story I have to write myself. Word for word.

Imperfectly, and maybe therefore just perfect.

Not driven by SEO, just driven by my inner drive to share my story, to hopefully inspire you.

Sitting behind my computer screen, trying to be accurate and consistent, chronological, and brutally honest about all the facts and circumstances that have led to here, is part of the process.

The process of healing. The process of taking ownership.

What a ride it has been, especially considering the starting point. 

Because ever since I can remember, I have suffered from a low self-esteem. Always believing in the greatness and kindness of others. Always supporting and cheerleading on others who were pursuing their goals. 

All while ignoring myself. Saying no to my dreams. Somehow feeling unworthy.

Which is strange, considering that my parents taught me one of the most important lessons in life, namely that I should never consider myself to be more important, but also never as being less important, than anyone else.

This is enshrined in my DNA: everyone is equal and deserves to be treated as such. Everyone deserves to go after their dreams. To be seen and heard and to feel valuable and loved. Including me.

As a result of this core belief, I have always stood up against arrogant people, regardless of their position, in both my private and personal life.

But somehow, I have always had trouble standing up for myself, which has resulted in missing promotions, staying small and invisible, not having a clear sense of direction. Life was happening to me, not for me.

It has taken me quite some years to figure out how this was possible, because it certainly was not my upbringing. I was loved, and I still am very much loved, by my family.

A few years ago, I decided to really dig deep. To figure out why I have let my low self-esteem get in my way, over and over again. To find out which events or circumstances in the past have triggered this low self-esteem. These triggers have haunted me for too long. I will talk more about them in one of my next blogs. 

In any case, having a low self-esteem had a devastating effect on many other aspects in my life, including my past relationships, my career, some of my friendships, and, most importantly, my health. Both my mental health and my physical health.

At the age of 50, I still had no real sense of direction. I still was unsure about what I really wanted to do with my life, the type of person I wanted to be, what my core values are, how I could become a healthier person, how I could start pursuing my dreams. In fact I was unsure about a lot of things.

Don’t get me wrong: I had, and still have, so much to be grateful for. Things that are going well. My family, my current relationship, my daughter, who is the greatest joy and source of happiness – thank you so much universe for this miracle. And of course, to my husband for helping me to conceive this miracle😉.

Yet, at the same time, the things that were going well, were negatively impacted by the other stuff. My feelings of slight depression, that popped up every now and then. The feeling of not doing what I was supposed to do in life. The feeling of being too old to change anything. Feelings of regret. Comparison. Jealousy. It seemed like everyone else was having a dream life, except me. This overall feeling of sadness. Not always, but often.

I was filled with limiting beliefs, feeling uncertain, incapable. This awful feeling of having missed the boat. With days passing by, seemingly faster than ever.

For all these years I have carried so much mental weight. While I also carried a lot of excess physical weight. Morbidly obese as it is called. Which is an unpleasant, but at the same time very honest medical term for “you do realize that you are going to die soon, if you continue to live like this”.

I knew things could not go on like this. I had friends who had passed away, some of them way too young. And I felt guilty because I was not doing anything to turn things for the better. I felt guilty, because I was not respecting the enormous and precious gift of life, while they had to give up theirs.

Things had to change, and I vividly remember the turning point.

More about that in my next blog. 

With love,
Diana