I have slowly been learning how to hold space for myself.

Yesterday I was meditating on the topic of holding space. Although the guided voice in my meditation was talking about holding space for others as they traverse difficult times, it occurred to me that these past few months of my life can be characterized by my profound effort to make space for myself in my own life.

These last months have been some of the most difficult, but also the most beautiful and authentic times I have endured in my life. I have gone from being a fast-paced, highly functional, productive, keeping-it-together full-time physician, to a forest-bathing, meditative, insightful, and vulnerable woman who is just trying to make sense of what the world is throwing at her.

I know there are amazing adventures waiting for me on the horizon, but right now I am enjoying this journey into myself. And, I have been longing to write. Again.

Very few people in my life know that I used to blog, quite prolifically. In fact, when I came back to this platform to open this blog, I saw that I first opened my account in 2015. At the height of my short blogging career, I carried close to 5000 followers and a good handful of dedicated readers with whom I interacted daily. Writing was the way I expressed myself with most clarity, emotion, and vulnerability. Unfortunately, at that time in my life, I was marred with fear that if the people in my “real life” knew the “real me…” well, I can’t even vocalize what that would have felt like. It was scary and did not seem something that was ever possible.

As I’ve progressed further into my medical career, I realize that I’ve become increasingly detached from the person I am deep inside. I was living a life that was so untrue to who I am truly and deeply, and I believe this is the reason I found myself having lost sight of the light from the depths of an unrecognizable burnout.

Over the course of the last months I have continuously found myself narrating my own thoughts and emotions – as if I was writing them into a story that I am meant to share with someone – myself maybe, or maybe others. At first I questioned why I felt so compelled to always “put on display” what is going through my head, or what I’m experiencing – like a child seeking attention or approval. It’s as thought I was convinced that there was a part of me who only wanted to discover myself if it was worth sharing with the world and if what I discovered was not worth sharing, then it wasn’t worth anything.

I’ve come to realize, however, that my mind is a storyteller. I am a storyteller. I am compelled to narrate the stories of my own life and my emotions because it’s part of who I am and how I am meant to interact with the world. I knew that about myself ten years ago when I started writing, but I just didn’t have the confidence, faith, or courage to allow myself to be vulnerable and share my stories with the people around me. I am there now (and I will admit that it is still scary).

The decision to start writing on this blog was not one that I came to easily. I have been reflecting on it for weeks, asking myself my motivations for wanting to share my writing widely. I asked myself over and over again why it wasn’t enough to just journal or write for myself. I sat and struggled with the younger, more vulnerable inner child of mine, who’s fear was truly that writing publicly was more about attention and approval than it was anything else. I sat with all these considerations for a long time.

Regardless, my experiences continue to come to me through the art of narration. Sometimes I feel like I am only a bystander in the story of my own adventures – as if I’m watching them on a screen and experiencing the emotional fallout right there along with myself. And I realized that these stories I am living – the ones I am experiencing simultaneously as a participant and as a viewer- are truly beautiful because they are meant to be shared. I don’t have anymore understanding than this.

And so, yesterday, while listening to a guided meditation on the beauty and true value of holding space for others in their difficult times, it became clear to me that I have been learning how to hold this space for myself. And in holding this space, I discovered that there is a story wanting to be told.