A Long overdue Love Letter.

Here I am.

Desert rain sweeps over the swimming pool bringing earthy aromas from some other region throughout the backyard. Rain is a message. A secret. And in the desert, it’s downright special.

The Ficus trees, Agave plants and Blue Palo Verde trees sing for the occasion. Their evolutionary design lets them go without water for so long that when it comes, their energy hums. They sing with gratitude through their pores. I feel it.

I message my friend Allyson about the desert rain as it falls in front of me, and she says, “I bet the land is excited. What an energy over there!” I say, “Wow, woman. I just wrote that down before messaging you. I love you.” I let all of those experiences simmer.

Where is my rain? Where is my moment that I’ve waited and evolved to embrace? And will I know how to appropriately live without it until it falls on me? Where is my evolutionary breakthrough? I’m built to love. And when I think I’ve gone without it for so long, I have to pull from some deep source in me. I have to pull from in here. There is an unlimited amount of love in here.

Maybe somewhere in our evolutionary design we are built to withstand long periods of without.

What is it about restriction that creates a strange sense of fullness from the very thing that we can’t have? I reflect a lot about the other side of discipline. Freedom and discipline are my life lessons revisited over and over again. Restraint. I’ve struggled to balance these two extremes for most of my life with food, alcohol, cigarettes and love. But what does it mean to live fluidly? I think it starts here. It starts by taking inventory of everything about me I feel is unloveable.

I love my overbite. I love my thin eyebrows arching over my large hazel eyes. I love how puffy my left eye gets first thing in the morning. It’s the only time my face looks that way, so it’s unique and unconventionally flattering. Hello tired eyes nice to see you again. And I love all the moles behind my ears and how they make a constellation that is only mine. I don’t always look the same. I change because I’m alive. And you know what? I feel gorgeous.

I love finding poetry in the smallest moments like in the reflection of clouds in the car window next to me driving to yoga. I fall for a moveable painting and parallel sky in blue and gold and white. I love how I drive and sing at the top of my lungs. My voice cracks as I figure out what it authentically sounds like. Because I’m singing for the first time possibly ever, I love the sounds I make. And most importantly I love that I made mistakes because now I know how to listen and become something new. I know how to be here all the way.

I spent time archiving my old Instagram account from top to bottom. I saved precious moments that I wanted to keep in my life. Even the ones that used to hurt, they now feel necessary. They are a part of my story. The grooves and gashes all healed over―I’d be lost without them. They’re in the webbing and framework of who I am. I guess that’s how we know when we no longer have a resentment―when the scars are healed enough for us to love more instead of bleeding out all over the place.

All the memories from a shattered phone―the choreography videos I forgot about, the many different groups of friends weaved through the ones that never changed, I sat down and let myself connect fully past to my present. Catching my breath now, I know the timing of my life is perfect. This is the time to accept myself completely.

I often think of my life before sobriety as an untouchable part of me. But looking back through all the choices I’ve made, even the one’s I secretly still harbor guilt over, I can say I am forgiven. Looking at that girl who was looking for love in every other space except the one in her heart makes me love myself even more. *Total acceptance burns so good. 

Take time to go into that place you think you cannot. There are places where we withhold love. There are parts that we say, “Not here. Surely, this is unloveable.” But it is. There is no reason for restricting love.

I am not a new person. I’m Jacqui, and I’m always changing.  


For more on the sobriety, yoga and travel journey check out my facebook page The OAM, or follow me on Instagram @jacqui.hathaway.

Cover photo credit: Yayoi Kusama
Flower Petals [AWSHTS]
silkscreen on canvas
2005-2007

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