Feeling so at peace - and people wonder what's going on!

Yes, ok so the title of this post gives you a good idea where I'm going here.

Have you followed this journey from the start?
When I began my university career as a scientist?

If you answered yes then you might understand why people are checking on me. It's so sweet of them I know.  But they are actually really questioning my words.  Yet all I feel right now is content.  And peaceful.

Finally stepping into who I am and what I'm doing is exactly what has helped me with my mental health and likely my physical health although that is a work in progress but we are getting there!

The problem i have is people are messaging me telling me
"You're really quiet, what's up?"
"I know something is wrong and you have to let what I said go.  I didn't mean it."
And the list goes on with several friends.  I'm not upset as its just through care and love.  But when I say I'm honestly ok, I mean I'm honestly ok.

I'm the writer I was always meant to be.

This makes such a difference in my life and how I'm feeling. I'm happy.  I'm content.  I'm not even sure I  have words for how I'm feeling but it's a definite positive 'thing'.

Last night I watched something from Mindvalley.  It was a hypnotherapy.  Incredible.  Taking you back to the exact time when you felt like you were not enough.  Not good enough.  All these kinds of thinking will lead you to illness, underperforming, self loathing, weight gain and all that type of thing...shockingly, my 'block' came from the time I was smacked by the headmaster in Junior school. For NO REASON!
Everyone Always ran to the line up queue and I was just one of them. For whatever reason, he smacked me really hard on my thigh.  It caused a hand print.  I thought he was a good headmaster but this really hurt.  I remember trying hard not to cry and quietly telling my friend what had happened.  Jeez I even can picture the skirt I was wearing (I wore it a lot) and remembering how I lifted it up to show her the redness.  It was a kid of rough tweed, sort of pleated. Not comfortable really but this was the early 1980s and we wore weird stuff.

To say I'm shocked at the detail that came through in this meditation is an understatement.  Has this been something that was holding me back all these years?  He made me the victim. Of all the people he could have chosen, he chose me.  He made me the victim.  Then follows a long story of being bullied in senior school, not getting love and affection from my parents, much less ever expecting hugs and kisses, and feeling cared for when there was joint pain.  Which of course I now know to be part of my autoimmune illness.  So would this feeling manifest into illness and depression?  Possibly. Yet now, I have an overwhelming sense of leaving it all behind.

I'm not the victim.  I am ENOUGH.

I have qualities and skills to offer and the most strange feeling of stepping into my reality and worrying less what people might say if I go ahead and create the life I want.

Which is me. Being a writer.

I am so in love with my life right now and I am so happy.  Truly.