Welcome to a Journey

I have spent most of my life being a victim. I was a victim of my father’s abuse. I was a victim of an eating disorder when I was still too young to know what that meant. I was a victim of a judgmental and toxic family. I was a victim of poverty. I was a victim of Endometriosis. I was a victim of mental health disorders that changed and morphed each time I thought I had a handle on what it meant to suffer from anxiety.

I was a victim of never standing still, of always being too busy, and defining my worth in that way. I was a victim of myself, and the plan I had set for my life.

I lost myself for a long time. In fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever known who I am, truly.

I am just discovering who Esther is. Not who Esther the Victim is; I know her all too well. I am discovering who Esther is without all the labels of the things that happened to her.

Today the word Victim leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Even writing this, I am cringing, because that is how I labeled myself for a long time. I didn’t feel safe without it. What I was doing was creating an unsafe environment that stunted my ability to grow and take up space; but if I was small, if I was hurting, then I was in a familiar environment. See, I may have spent most of my life being a victim, but I was a victim by choice for a lot of it.

Instead of looking back and wondering why, I am going to welcome it as part of my journey. I can’t change the way my father treated me, I couldn’t control being his victim at the time, but I can choose to not let it define me anymore. He is no longer a part of my life; I am not his to abuse anymore. My eating disorder shaped my adolescence, but I can choose to speak kindly to my body now; she loyally carried me through so much. My family will never change, but I can choose to embrace the people who nurture me; those are the people who give me space to become my truest self. I can’t change that I grew up on the edge of surviving, but I can see how it taught me hard work and got me to where I am now; I can now show others that there is a way to survive. I can’t change my diagnoses, and I will live with them forever; but I can except them, learn to manage them, and start living a life that I define.  So welcome to this journey, a road that I have chosen to take to heal. Here in this space, I am hoping that others who are looking inward can come to feel safe, and maybe a little less alone. Fifteen year old Esther needed a space like this, so twenty-five year old Esther is creating it.