The Stories That I Tell Myself

I’ve been reading a book lately about the stories that we tell ourselves. The stories we lead our lives off of and make important decisions from. The stories that, for the most part have no truth to them. The stories that I tell myself are crushing and have broken me completely. The stories that I tell myself have led to self-destructive behavior with the intention of sabotaging anything good. I decided to finally write a list of the stories that I listen to way too often and share them.  Not to have anyone say, “oh no, that’s not true!” or to have anyone pity me. We all live under the weight of and suffer from our stories, I thought that if I put mine out there that someone, even just one person would see that they are not alone. Our stories, as fucked up and twisted as they are, are not the truth. I know deep down that they can be dropped…I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I’m on an active journey…

The stories that I tell myself:

I am burden to everyone in my life

I work in a career field that is way too saturated to ever make anything of myself

I am a poor loser who can’t afford to participate in the world

My family judges me, doesn’t take me seriously or listen to me

My body is disgusting

I have no energy and I will always feel like shit

There is something wrong with me and everybody knows it

No matter how hard I try, I will always just be average

No one understands me

I’m incapable of feeling balanced

I don’t deserve to be loved


I’m not really concerned with shocking anyone with this post because I know that everyone in the world operates on contorted and inaccurate fantasies about themselves. My stories interfere with my job, my relationships, my drive and motivation. Like I said, I haven’t figured out how to drop them completely yet, but it’s on my radar, right in front of me. It’s hard to let go of these intangible grips that I’m so used to surrendering to and bowing down to, but I know it’s necessary for my own sanity. It’s necessary for all of our sanity.


It’s Been a Year…

Today marks a year since I’ve been back in Colorado. A year ago, I was completely broken. I was reeling from the betrayal of someone that I thought that I knew. I had no money, no car and I was living with my parents. I felt the lowest that I had ever felt and I didn’t know how to pick up the pieces.

It’s been a year since I was paralyzed with sadness and grief over the loss of my life in California, I was hopeless. Fast-forward a year, I am thriving and feeling abundant. I feel a sense of being whole and having purpose and I see the deep thread of connection between my past and my present. It was all necessary.

My recovery began almost immediately, but I got lost in the throes of despair many times along the way. Over the past year I’ve experienced tons of anger towards this certain someone. During these times, I went through deep bouts of depression that I thought would go on for forever. I pushed people away, I didn’t go out, I lost hope, I got it back, I lost it again…it seemed like a never-ending cycle of up and down. Throughout the last year, I’ve felt more unstable and stable than ever.

Back to my recovery, my parents really showed up for me. They helped me buy a new car, made sure that I had everything I needed to maintain my then vegan, gluten-free diet and let me come and go as I pleased. I felt free and supported and for that I am eternally grateful.

I met an amazing man soon after my return. I didn’t think that I was ready to open up and I didn’t think that I would be for a longggg, long time. He was ready to deal with my emotional baggage. He gave me space to grieve and only interacted with me from a place to love and patience. He never judged me, he never held my sometimes poor behavior against me and offered me support and space whenever I needed it. It took months for me to let him really love me the way that I always wanted, I’m so glad he waited. He is my yoga partner, my music partner, hiking partner, cooking partner, my co-creator of brilliant ideas—he makes me feel alive and because of him I am so much kinder and more thoughtful. On August 11th, we will be co-teaching and co-DJing a yoga class on a rooftop in downtown Denver during the sunset. More details to come:)

Almost immediately, I was offered a full-time teaching opportunity at my old studio. I have been supported in ways that I could have never have dreamed of by my bosses and have been able to dive back into teaching students who I’ve known for years, students who were present during my conception as a yoga and fitness instructor. I feel so deeply rooted in and connected to my community of students and teachers and I couldn’t imagine more amazing people to spend my days with. I am also in the planning stages of leading my first solo yoga retreat in Feb 2017 in Roatan, Honduras. More details to come:)

The thing that really helped me come to a place of feeling like I could fully move on was going to therapy. I’ve found someone that I’ve been able to unload on, someone who is unbiased and can help me see my patterns and other perspectives. Having the space to speak freely, to emote and to ask for help has been so healing. Going to therapy has allowed me to want to communicate more with my parents, my partner and my friends and articulate my thoughts and feelings more honestly and clearly. I have seen and felt a huge shift in my relationships and it feels really good to be more connected to people.

Hitting rock bottom is fucking hard. But I know that it was completely necessary to find myself where I am. Now when I experience lows in my life, I know that they are temporary, I know that I am supported. I mean I knew this stuff before, but I didn’t really know it in a way where I could intelligently apply it to my life. I am stronger now and I finally feel like I’m in a place where I can support others wholeheartedly. I am a survivor and I’m ready to pay it forward.