A Return to Me

Thanksgiving Day, 2021. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “I don’t have a fucking thing to be grateful for.”

In that instant, everything stopped. Not dramatically. Not violently. But cleanly. The 14 years of minimizing. Dismissal. Quiet erosion. All came into focus. Everything I’d tolerated. Excused. Explained in the name of love became undeniable.

New Year’s Day, 2022, I vowed to myself. I will do whatever it takes to return to me. Starting fresh, regardless of cost. I left everything behind. Smallness. Dogma. Emotional dumping grounds. I chose presence. Feeling. Being. I chose me.

Pedasi, Panama, became the backdrop of reclamation. Long walks through the countryside past pastures. Cows. Horses. Chickens. Dogs. Beautiful beaches. Wide open spaces to breathe. To move. To reclaim myself. Mornings on the ocean tended my aliveness. Reminded me of my refusal to numb.

I met people. Observed patterns. And refused to fall into old voids. I watched chaos, loss, and deception unfold around me and bore the hard financial hit of the failed condo project. I chose peace. I walked away from what no longer served me. Intact. Aware.

And then there is the heart of my Pedasi experience. Rey. With him, I learned what it felt like to show fragility without fear. To be fully present with each other. I felt my aliveness waken after years of numbing. The sensual, sexual woman that had been lost returned. Emotional. Physical. Raw. The intimacy we shared was a gift. A portal. A new paradigm. My time with him showed me what is possible when two people meet without armor. Now, that’s what I long for. I won’t settle for less.

I returned to the U.S. a new woman. My heart wide open. My eyes fully open too. No more rose-colored glasses dimming discernment. Ready to meet life fully, as me.