And Then I Thought…

If you haven’t seen the tv show, The Good Place, there are spoilers ahead. Also, if you haven’t seen it, go watch it.

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I was listening to this podcast and they referenced The Good Place.

In the show, their memories are erased hundreds of times and they live nearly the same situation, over and over. On the podcast, they said something like, “Am I living the 167th version of myself or the 200th?” And it got me thinking, how many lives have I lived in my life? 

And how the phrases, “You only have one life” and “You only live once” now feel so far from the truth.

What I mean is that when I reflect on my life, I feel like I’ve been reborn over and over and lived multiple lives through different versions of myself. 

I think about ten years ago and how that feels like an entirely different life. 

I think about my childhood and THAT feels like an entirely different universe.

I think about two years ago and that Sarah feels WAS a completely different person.

And of course, we go through life and we change, and grow, and evolve in whatever ways necessary, but with these different “lives” there’s a shedding almost. A dying of that person who lived that life. That old version of you being put to rest.

At least that’s what it’s felt like for me. You know what I mean, that Phoenix moment.

And then I thought, If we’re constantly changing into different versions of who we are, maybe that’s why some of the goals or dreams we have don’t come to pass.

Maybe, what we dreamt up in our ignorance was not meant for us in our fullness? Maybe what our brains were able to comprehend what we wanted in a previous version of ourselves was deeply incompatible with what we would truly want and need once we came into our own. Maybe we weren’t being let down or forgotten, but protected and perfectly led?

And then I thought, what if we never let those parts of us be put to rest? What if we never let the old die? What life would we miss out on while holding onto the past, the things that didn’t happen?

Maybe that’s where a lot of our personal/internal tension comes from; the inability to accept the parts of us that need to be put to rest so that we can have what we’re longing for.

Maybe.

In my experience the dying has felt like failure, like admitting defeat, like I couldn’t hack it in that part of life—Not true, dying is just part of what brings you closer to the truest most beautiful version of you and life that you can imagine, or can’t imagine.

It’s also been the hardest goodbye, the one I had to say to the versions of myself that tried so damn hard.

But what I would say to her and all the previous version of me, is this:

Thank You. You won’t know until later, but the dying wasn’t a sign of failure, it was a sign of success. It was all a part of it, all a part of getting here, of getting to a place where peace is easier to find, hope is easier to lean into, and love is easier to feel. Thank you for letting the part of you that held onto shame and guilt for dear life die. Thank you for letting that part of you that became obsessed with suffering because she thought it was her destiny to suffer die. Thank you for taking a leap of faith and trusting that in death you would find life. 

It’s not easy, it’s just worth it.

And I wondered if that girl never accepted those deaths and decided to risk in the more that she never truly trusted, what would have happened? Would I still be the girl from my childhood trying my hardest to become the peace my family needed, breaking myself over and over again in the name of love? 

Would I still be that girl in my twenties destined for suffering, and loneliness, and martyrdom, now in the name of God?

Would I still be that terrified woman, stuck in trauma who hates herself and sabotages any love that comes her way because that person has to be a manipulative liar to love her?

*Deep Breath*

But she didn’t reject it.

I’m thankful for the deaths I’ve gone through, however excruciating, because it’s all brought me to a place where I feel balance in my soul. It’s brought me to a place where my mind and heart fight a lot less and self hatred isn’t a part of my daily thoughts. 

Intentional or not, the world, our families, our jobs, our friends, ourselves, push us to become different things. And we constantly have to shed them and put to rest the different identities we’ve taken on that are not us.

It’s scary, but it’s worth it.

I say all of this to encourage you even in the smallest of ways to let go of versions of yourself that you need to let go of.

The bitter version of you that scoffs at you internally when you feel joy.

The shamed version of you that blocks the love and healing in your life from coming in fully.

The hated version of you that hides from acceptance because it tells you you’re not good enough.

It’s all a story being told over and over again in your head in an attempt to keep you protected, because these versions of you are all love driven and well intentioned. They’ve learned enough through life and are leading and protecting you in what they understand—you are leading and protecting you in what you understand. But it’s also keeping you from the truest most beautiful version of yourself. And if the best you understand is keeping you from that, maybe it’s time to make a change. Because the truest most beautiful version of yourself is worth dying for, however many times needed. And when you get there, you’ll see you believed in yourself way more than you ever knew.

With love,

Sarah.