I’m sitting here scrolling through my memories on Facebook. Sometimes it makes me happy, sometimes it makes me sad and depressed. For a while I had stopped even opening them because it either represented forgotten friendships or people that I have lost, or… a visual reminder of all the most difficult times that I had gone through, neatly packaged into a stream of memes and quotes.

But it also gives me a sneak peek into my growth. I look at something I posted… I look at the date… I say ‘Ohhhh…that was when…” Most of the times that sentence ends with ‘I was hurting/struggling from or with something’.

The last day of May 2016 was the day that tore my soul apart. It broke me… Actually, it didn’t even break me. It completely erased me. All I was, was just empty. Nothing. It left me wondering whether I would ever be able to feel again. Hope again. Love again.

So I spent a year working on me. Sitting alone in the darkness of my room and my soul. Feeling unloved… feeling unlovable. And I healed… And I hurt… and I grew… and I clawed myself out of the dark and into the light.

I worked and worked – good lord I did all the hard work. And I felt like with every step forward I kept moving leagues back. But I kept at it. I kept persisting. Because in the moment that you have nothing, there is nothing to lose. Slowly, painfully I started to look at all the broken bits of me. At my insecurities and my flaws. At every limiting thought and believe that was holding me back. I looked them straight in the eyes – often shaking with fear. And I kept staring.

Until I felt it soften. Until I was able to envelope every barbed bit of me in love. And then I got cut some more. It is difficult to love the sharp, splintered bits of the human that is you.

But… I had nothing… and nothing to lose. So I sat with the pain. And I grew. And I got stronger. And slowly I started to change. I started to embrace me. Every dark and sharp and brittle and broken bit of me. I infused it with gentleness and love. I soaked it until self-adoration dripped off of my shattered edges like blood off the tip of a sword.

I was at war. One part of me shouting that I am not worth it, that I do not deserve to be happy, to be loved… while the other quietly whispered… ‘But dear Woman, you are’. And slowly the whisper grew louder than the shout. Day by day… moment by moment. The knowing grew. That I am worthy. That I am enough. Even with all my broken bits, with my cracks and dents, bruises and bumps.

This person, this soul is Enough.

The moment I started realising my worth my life changed. I fully loved myself, and within a month found someone who loves me, who accepts me, and who pushes me to heal even more. Today I see my posts on facebook from two years ago. And they show me the exact moment that I started Remembering my worth. I feel the change in the energy of the me from the past. And I cheer her on. I celebrate her. And I encourage her.

Because I know what she has been through. And I know what the me of this present moment has been through. Somewhere, for a moment, a minute, a month, I let myself forget.

I had put my head down and got caught up, and the ‘knowing’ my worth became a ‘guessing’ my worth. And really, that just wasn’t enough.

I have been feeling a massive shift in the last few days, and as if in an instant I was reminded of my worth. Of what I deserve. Of who I am and why I am here. That I am a beautiful, empowered, confident, created being who manifested myself into this life.

I can feel the changes in the air, the water, the earth and the fire. Are you ready to join the shift?