Tending my garden.

I was flipping through some photos today and it dawned on me, wow my whole life I've really been blessed with friendship in every season. I also realized a sad truth, in that season I rarely have recognized it. So consumed by feelings of worthlessness and shame, rarely have I looked out to see the blessings that await me. People who truly care if I would let them in. So this is my season. This is the journey I'm on. Discovering Home. Discovering I belong, and I always have. I'm working on embracing it, the good. The bad. The messy. The uncomfortable. All of it is apart of me, and all of it belongs. I'm learning to be embraced. I think that's the hardest of all. If it's just me and my mess, I can figure out how to deal with that. stifle it, hate myself, close myself off from people. But to be embraced despite of it...? that's unthinkable. And maybe that's why I need to learn it.

I don't know when the lie started forming, but I know it's been there for a while. Seeded in the crevices of my mind and taking root, an unquenchable weed daring to choke the life out of the flower that dared to blossom. I don't know where it started, but it's been there since ever I could remember. "Your hateful." the rancid venom stings my soul.
"Unwanted"
"Unloveable"
"A reject."
And i digress, spiraling away into retreat. Holding people close, but only at arms length. Superficial living. Never truly believing that i could be...loved. I sheet of glass between me and the ones that maybe, possibly I could find love. But love is just a figment of the imagination which means possibility is really impossibility in the end. So I've been stuck in this rut. A mental mind trap, mulling over lies probability. However, the longer meditate, the more relativity shifts to reality and I have found that I've been living in this state where I not only hear
"Reject."
"Unloveable."
"Unwanted"
I believe it.
I am it.
I am hateful.
So undeserving of affection or a truly open, honest conversation that does not require the sacrifice of who I really am to appease to the likes of someone else's preference. Instead, a masking of the real me becomes the norm until I don't know how to do much more than fake it with the ones I call my friends.
However, my mantra's "fake it till you make it." So maybe if I just pretend to be pretty enough, good enough, smart enough, happy enough, maybe just maybe I will obtain the goal and I'll no longer have to pretend. Again, the impossibility of possibility becoming reality, but I can dream.
Still, I'm no fool and I know a dream is only reality until you wake up and that's when I find that I'm still me.
The way I always have been. Always will be. And I continue holding all the spectators at arms length, longing to embrace as long as they stand ten feet away to avoid catching a glimpse at all my imperfection. But I wonder what could be if I let the walls fall down around me. To break the glass I believed was a boundary, but really only turned out to be a cage. And I see, possibly, quite probably, honesty is the best policy, to let made known the truth of who I am, unashamed. To up root the weed inside my head that screams:
hateful,
unwanted,
unloved,
reject,
and replace it with the seeds that blossom life.
You're accepted,
you are wanted.
you are loveable.
you are home.
Tending the garden
of my heart, lies uprooted,
a flower bed blooms.