I love my mind, it’s so cool. And sometimes I hate it, it’s too imaginative. It makes up all kinds of different stories that are not true. It constantly fantasies/ worrying about the strangest thing. And at the same time, I’m trying to be gentle with it. It’s staying so busy because it’s trying to protect my heart. And it thinks it’s doing a really good job.
But truth is, I’m an adult now. I can take care of myself. And even if my feelings might be hurt from time to time, I will be okay. I can take that little girl inside in my arms and hold her when she’s hurting. And I know, whenever I do that, she will, sooner rather than later usually, want to break free from my embrace and run and play again. She’s not holding grudges or staying stuck in the past. She just feels whatever she needs to feel whenever she needs to feel it and I love her for that.
So, dear mind, I love you too. But you’re not the boss of me, you’re a tool I use sometimes. It’s okay for you to take a break sometimes. And I know that you freak out whenever you feel like your losing control. That’s okay too. I got you. You’re safe with me.
With all my love,