A Day in the Mind of Courtney

  I learned today that seeking validation is a trauma response. I’m not going to go into detail. But, I was abandoned as a child—over and over again (by my mother.) I’ve always measured my worth in other people’s eyes. I never felt truly “loved” by her. My own sister barely remembers me from her own childhood memories. I’m learning to love myself. To not rely so heavily on the opinions of others. I realize now that’s why I’m not fully myself around people—because I have this DEEP fear that if I show my true self… they’ll leave me too. It literally bottles down to fear of abandonment. So instead, I smile. I nod. I fake it. I fake it until I fucking make it. Bear with me as I try to unlearn this. If you’re not here to see me grow, don’t expect to be around when I finally bloom. 🌸

  So, here’s the thing. You all know I’ve been struggling with agoraphobia. I don’t even count the months anymore, it’s been awhile.  I’ve lost touch. In every way. I let my fears consume me. And in the process I lost friends. Family. But in all the loss, I’ve found myself. I’m no longer a question mark to myself, I make SENSE. My “clothesline isn’t broken.” I’m not less than, mediocre, subpar, or any of those things I’ve thought for SO LONG, I’m autistic. I’m a freaking zebra.  I’m starting to see the light…..  I carried something around for 20 years, and it was heavy. So heavy that it stunted my growth, I’ve finally set that weight down. I feel 10,000 lbs lighter.  I’M WRITING A BOOK. TWO ACTUALLY. I’m doing it. Me. It’s TERRIFYING. But it’s also freeing. These books are my heart, my truth. And I’m putting it all out there for anyone to read. It’s wild. It’s vulnerable. It’s real. It’s me.  I’m doing it all in the four walls that have trapped me and shelt...

  It took me a long time to realize that figuring out who I am doesn’t always mean having all the answers. Sometimes, it means learning what doesn’t feel right. What doesn’t fit. What drains me. What I no longer want to carry. I’m not someone who pretends to be okay when I’m not. I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve. Some call it bravery, some call it “attention seeking.” I don't know what to call it, maybe it’s just honesty. Maybe it’s the only way I know how to cope, is speak; when I’ve felt so small, so unseen for so long, including by loved ones.  I don't find comfort in blending in anymore. I’ve tried, and it left me feeling invisible, and exhausted. I won’t be fifteen versions of myself for different people just to be accepted. I used to think being liked meant being everything for everyone. I wanted to be everyone’s cup of tea. How silly is that?  Now I know that being myself means saying no, setting boundaries. It means making room for the things( and people) th...