I used to love doing a lot of things, and finding my way back to myself now feels essential to reclaiming them.
I used to love to sew. I loved going shopping, even if I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I loved to read, write, and draw. This journey is about finding my way back to myself. There were so many little things I enjoyed doing simply because they made me happy.
Over the last few years, though, I haven’t been doing much of anything.
Somewhere Along the Way, I Stopped
Somewhere along the way, I stopped doing the things I loved. It wasn’t a decision I made. I didn’t wake up one morning and decide that I didn’t want to sew anymore or that I didn’t want to pick up a book. It happened slowly.
Little by little, the things that once brought me joy started to feel like work.
A book would sit untouched. A project I wanted to work on would get pushed aside. I would think about writing something and tell myself I would do it tomorrow.
Then tomorrow would come, and I still wouldn’t do it.
Eventually, you stop noticing how much you’ve stopped doing.
Losing Pieces of Myself
I think that is one of the hardest things about losing pieces of yourself. It doesn’t always happen all at once. Sometimes it happens so quietly that you don’t realize how much has changed until you look back and wonder, What happened to the person who used to love doing all of these things?
I’ve asked myself that question a lot.
Where did she go?
I don’t think she’s completely gone. I think she’s still here. Maybe she’s just been buried underneath everything else for a while.
Writing this blog again has been one small way of finding her.
Finding My Way Back
I am writing again, finding my way back to myself, even if progress is uneven. It matters to me that I keep going.
I’ve also started thinking about the other things I used to enjoy. Maybe I’ll pick up a sewing project again. Maybe I’ll sit down and draw something, even if it isn’t very good. Maybe I’ll pick up a book and actually finish it.
I Don’t Have to Be the Old Me
I don’t want to put pressure on myself to suddenly become the person I was years ago, because I’m not that person anymore.
And maybe that’s okay.
Maybe finding my way back isn’t really about becoming the old me again.
Maybe it’s about taking the things I once loved and discovering whether they can have a place in the person I am now.
I’m starting with writing.
One blog post at a time.
And maybe, somewhere along the way, I’ll find a few more pieces of myself waiting for me.