I’ve considered a blog rebrand for months, and finally went through with it. My former blog name, Only Wear Dresses, had a deeper metaphorical meaning, but on the surface was unrepresentative of my message.
I spent hours brainstorming the rebranding of my blog, but nothing clicked. It wasn’t the right time. I put it on hold and as in all things trusted the Universe, knowing that when I was ready, it would come to me.
This past Saturday night, I woke up from a dead sleep at 2 AM with an anxious mind and burning urge to get up and write. I listened to my intuition, and once done felt an immediate sense of relief.
I returned to bed, but still couldn’t sleep. Inspired by a newfound realization of my innermost fear, the new blog name popped into my head suddenly and undeniably: The Fearless Light.
Within 5 minutes of this decision, I was perfectly comfortable and once again sound asleep. The next morning, I immediately transferred my domain and social media. A done deal.
The following is the exact journal entry, without omissions, that led to the rebranding of my blog name. It is vulnerable. It’s revealing. And I’m choosing to share it with you.
I’ve been lying awake for maybe one hour. I tried to fall back asleep in the same arms where just a matter of days ago I felt so genuinely safe and secure. But something wasn’t clicking. I had an unshakeable feeling of fear and unease that needed to be addressed, and now find myself sitting topless in yoga pants and socks, his socks, on the cold wooden hallway floors as he sleeps soundly in the warm room I escaped. There is something to be said for coldness and solitude.
Truly I want to relax. I want to enjoy the present without fear of the future. But it’s been engrained in my every being to guard my heart. What does my spirit say? Do I put the guard up or do I give my all? I’ve proven to myself that I can come back from the darkest of holes and that I can do so totally alone. I’ve proven to myself that I don’t need anyone for my wellbeing or happiness.
But then again I also wonder if ever I really have come back from it. I also wonder whether being overly independent to the point of loneliness is really something to be proud of.
When I’m low I romanticize happiness. When I’m happy I romanticize darkness.
The night of Friday, November 17, I was feeling just a bit too happy. I didn’t feel comfortable like that. So what I did was I channeled my darkness to return to a place of familiarity. I poured myself a glass of wine and listened to the darkest music I could find that always opens up that little box in me that pours out all of my hidden demons. I sketched. It showed.
I opened Pandora’s Box.
In the jumbled head of mine, I thought I could channel that place of me without any consequences thereafter. I thought maybe, let me tap deeply into my fears and my pain, just for tonight, so I can feel inspired again. So I can create art. So I can be the Sad Girl I’ve told myself I’m meant to always be, and then turn Sad Girl off and somehow jump back to optimism.
This was a failed endeavor.
I’ve always thought of myself as the sacrifice. I’ve thought of myself as the one who had to suffer so that I could save everyone else from having to, due to some sort of profound wisdom I obtain in these moments. All my best ideas and greatest lessons so far have been fueled from disappointment.
I tell myself that I can handle the lows, I can handle heartache and that’s why so much of it has been given to me. So that I can be the one to help other people who would crack if they were in my position. That I can stay low, and low, and low so that nobody else gets that low.
Happiness is something I’ve never thought I deserved. It sounds sad, but in a way I haven’t wanted it. I like that dark place of me. But once I reach it, the darkest of dark places, I realize that I do want happiness. I want the darkness to end.
But then the light comes.
The light comes.
I fuck it up.
I hide under the covers. I sleep through the day. I use sunglasses as a shield at dusk to block out every last bit of daylight as the horizon fades from blues and burning orange to purples and grays.
I want to be happy. With someone, with life in general, in each moment without fear of what could happen the next moment. But I’ve been left so much, I’ve been hurt so much in so many ways that when life is good, I just can’t believe it.
Maybe that’s why I always turn out the lights early, crawling back into the night within my soul. On the surface I tell myself I like it. I tell myself I belong there. But in the deep reality of my subconscious, the lunacy of this statement is really just a safety blanket for my deep-rooted fear that I’m going to return there whether I like it or not, so to anticipate it will save myself the shock.
Pain and darkness are comfortable.
They don’t have to be.
I have a deep longing to love and be loved, and a spiritual realization of the truth that all love is manifested. Nothing in this life falls into our laps; no dreams, happiness, goals, or love. We create our destinies, and anything is possible.
The fact that I push the concept of manifestation, yet I myself am manifesting the exact opposite, treating myself as some ridiculous emotional martyr for the sake of everyone else, is just about the most hypocritical thing I’ve ever done.
The desires within me have been realized, and the way for a person to reach these desires has also. I say a person and not me because until now, it didn’t occur to me that I too am deserving of this. I have an energy blockage somewhere deep in me that needs to be healed and cleared. I know what this is, and it’s the very issue I’ve buried for many years. It’s the thing I thought that maybe I wouldn’t have to face and I could just get over. But here it follows me, haunts me, and I can’t afford to let it go on like this.
I refuse to spend another sleepless, anxiety-filled night in the midst of good things. Life has gotten better. My mind hasn’t. I realize that my thinking pattern is the problem.
The low points in my life, as well as my resilience, have been given to me as a special gift and vesicle to reach the point of wisdom I have now. But it’s time to shatter the glass ceiling. I must be thankful for those moments, but also choose not to stay in them. I must challenge myself to grow spiritually and emotionally, to heal those last wounds and open my heart deeply to receiving the joy and abundance I deserve.
It’s time to move on from the darkness I’ve forever known. As foreign as it is, I must learn now to grow and be fearless in the light.
I’m going to speak my heart. I’m going to speak my mind. And I’m going to face the demons I’ve been hiding.
I deserve to have light. I deserve to be the light. And today, I choose love.
Tell me in the comments – what does light mean for you? And in the context of the text above, is it something you as well have ever feared?