We have to risk losing ourself in order to find ourself. The sentence stuck to me as I was reading over some old words i’d written, because lost is exactly how I feel. More and more lost each day and slowly becoming more okay with it. At times I cling to any old security but more and more I find myself, help myself up, and remind myself that it’s okay to be lost, that in fact, it is good to be lost. It’s taking time to make sense. All of these deep changes come with a wave of confusion. Something peaceful walks with me through defying the very mind I’ve spent all these years living in, in favour of the real me that i’ve only ever seen in glimpses, that i’ve only ever been in glimpses.