We try to force change upon ourselves and others—but change is natural—and nothing natural can be forced.
I spent a little over a year, maybe even two, fighting myself—or something of the sort. I was in a full-on battle. Literally, I had waged an almost unforgiving, horrendously relentless war against the woman I knew I was becoming—the woman I knew deep-down all of me desired to be. In my spirit rose a resentment toward this woman I had yet to formally meet. Forcibly I was on a mission to postpone her arrival. Some days it felt as if I wanted nothing more than to halt her coming all together. Ironically, I felt that I knew nothing of her. Sadly, as much as I innately desired to see her in all of her highly anticipated grandeur I could not stand feeling her emerging. I loathed watching her from half-shut eyes displacing the me I had grown to find so many comforts within.
Eventually, I realized there was not much I could do to make myself feel happy and fulfilled until I just allowed myself to simply be—to commit, to leap, to freefall, to find a way to catch myself in mid-air—like a cat—and to land on my feet after all of my shifting, my changing. For my sanity’s sake, I had to make way for her arrival. I had to abandon my complacency.