I am nothing.

We are nothing. We are not even the image of ourselves that we perceive ourselves to be. But still, we are whole. Actually, our wholeness is in the nothing. It's just that it has become our nature to distract ourselves from this nothingness. And in the fear of feeling nothing, we justify and normalise everything that leads us away from feeling whole. (Ironically, in the name of finding what makes us whole...)

All this personal growth, all these things, achievements, titles, thoughts, processes... When it comes down to it - they are not what gives me true peace. They are not what makes me feel whole. They give me temporary kicks, yes. They keep me distracted, yes. And the chase for something "better" keeps me busy, gives me a momentary sense of purpose. But when they fade, when the goals are reached and the thoughts thought, I feel this heavy emptiness again.

And then I stumble upon Jim Carrey saying that we are nothing. That nothing in fact is anything. That things just happen. And that he found great peace in this. Well, the only thing I found was anxiety, confusion and resistance. But I was intrigued. Greatly intrigued. (My next personal growth challenge - yay!) Yet, I still didn't want to think it, I still didn't want to accept it; that I would be nothing. Because with that thought - what's my purpose? Why would I be here, why would we all be here, if we are nothing? But I am now realising that the search for purpose is what actually creates the feeling of no purpose. Because if you have to look for it, that in itself already means it is lost. But if you accept that it is already there, then that is where it will be: there.

So, basically what this means is that we lose ourselves when we start looking for ourselves. When we're asked what we want to be when we grow up. When we're asked what we want out of life. We don't need to figure it out, because it's already there. We already are, and that's the whole point. What we need is to learn to accept that. That we don't need to make ourselves up, to find a role (and then hold on to that role with our dear lives). What we need is to accept that in a world where nothing is good enough, the nothing is what's good enough.

Lovelovelove,

Carolina

Why you should do everything in your power to make your woman feel good about herself.

This is a hard text for me to write - and especially to publish - because it opens up an issue I have a hard time accepting and admitting about myself: That I need care. That I need comfort. That I need someone to tell me I'm beautiful, that I'm adorable. It forces me to admit that I need confirmation, that I need safety. And that I need someone to help remind me of who I really am. 

(Please note that this is my side of birth.)

Childbirth changed me. A. Fricking. Lot. Before I had my baby, before I had carried her for nine months, before I had spent two days pushing her out, I felt a freedom in my body that I don't remember ever feeling before. For a few years, I explored myself. My powers. My energy. My possibilities. I had fun. But I've lost that sense of freedom now. It got lost in a body that literally turned inside out, and the consequences of that. It got lost in me losing my Self, in me hurting, in me not knowing whether I was up or whether I was down. And I've struggled so with the feeling that this is so unfair. That I have to do all this work again, to find my way back to that free place - a place I already spent 30 something years on finding. (And it was not a picnic, I can tell you. But yes, always worth the work.)

This is why you should do everything in your power to make your woman feel good about herself - still loooong after birth. As she might not know where she is anymore. Where that woman is. She might find the mother in herself. The partner. The caretaker. But the woman, the woman that laughs carelessly with you, the woman that enjoys with you, the woman that is funny, quirky, happy, adorable, mysterious, free. If she's lost, you need to help find her. You need to do everything - and then some - to help bring her back. Because you have a baby together. You are in this - together. Your woman carries your baby for you. She nurtures your baby, she sacrifices her body, she sacrifices her Self.

So if you don't know who that woman opposite you is anymore. If you don't know where the woman you once knew went. Then it's your duty to find out. It's your duty to see if she's okay. Not blame her for getting lost. Not blame her for becoming a mother. If you started your relationship to this woman with notes, with compliments, with gifts, with hugs, with touches, with hints - with whatever - you need to continue what you started. Because if you stop - when she is going through the biggest change of her life, the change that forces her to rediscover and redefine every single thing about herself - if you take away what you once gave that woman, then you will give her confirmation that you also do not see her anymore. That she's invisible. That she simply is not there. And if neither of you know where that woman is, if neither of you see her or is the one who remembers - then you might both lose sight of her forever.

Birth changes everything. Time changes everything. But some things need to stay the same.

Lovelovelove,

Carolina

No more Good Girls.

How many of you grew up to be the Good Girl? The girl that pleases everyone. The girl who always puts everyone else's needs first. Even at her own expense. The girl who doesn't even know she has a choice, that she - her wants and needs - are of as much value as anyone else's. I did.

I've been finding myself saying Good Girl to Grace a lot lately (comes out like I'm on auto pilot or something) - when I want to give her thanks for doing as I say, for doing the "right" thing, a good thing... And every time I do, I find myself feeling bad. Every time something tells me I'm doing the wrong thing. Because being a Good Girl has actually been the worst thing I have been. Being a Good Girl I never knew I had choice. That my will mattered. That it was of value. That I was of value. Instead I thought my will was a burden. Ugly. Unattractive. Annoying. I was meant to please other's will. I was meant to take others into consideration. Other people's wills, wants, choices and needs.

So, as I'm using Good Girl as a way of expressing my appreciation to Grace, my thank you - why am I not saying that, what I actually mean - Thank You! Would that change anything? Where would that lead? Would it lead to Grace knowing I am grateful for her choice? That her choice matters? That she has a choice. That her will matters? Will she teach herself which choice feels good and which not? Will she learn that her self worth is not in if she pleases others (not even me), but in the choices she decides to make. Will she feel the freedom of knowing she is loved for who she is - not for being a Good Girl. Because children do understand, that where there's good there is bad. And for a child, being bad means being unloved. And no one wants to be unloved, least a child. So a child will do everything in their power to stay loved. And in the quest to do so, the child's own will and person disappears, as all she seeks out are ways to be a good girl. To be The Good Girl. To be loved.

Love,

Carolina