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Not Home

Glimpses in the mirror have been disheartening. I haven't been able to recognize myself for weeks. The dark circles, the extra puff, the spots and lines where they never existed before.

And I have been cruel to those reflections

I have been dark. A woman scorned, by another, myself. There have been terrible words, deep judgements, tears of disgust and hope for the old reflections to return.

My moods have mirrored the weather. The warm sun on my face and cold breeze on my shoulders to remind me of what lurks beneath the surface. And then the thunderstorms, with all the lightening, the Gail force winds, the damaging hail, that come expectedly but never quite prepared for.

This is what the shedding feels like this time. The reflection I see is not the woman I knew before the flight 'home'.

This is what shifting feels like this time. The wrinkles and round face are the resistance to it.

There is a new paradigm being revealed with this trip 'home'. My body as it was is no longer my home, just as this place is not.

The reality I am used to is no longer my home.

The safety of the past, of what once was, no longer exists. I cannot even recognize it as true.

Just like my reflection.

I have not lost.

I am not ugly.

This is the new. The next step. The things I have been asking for, showing up, with a vengeance.

And now that I'm done judging it, Universe, show me more. Let it shed. Show me who I'm actually meant to be.

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