Chapter 4:

Modern-day Superhero: “I got the juice!”

Write off your hopes, and if your well-being matters to you, be your own savior while you can.- Marcus Aurelius

Over the past few weeks, I’ve allowed myself to move slowly, intentionally, and symbolically without my thinking cap. I recognized that my body, mind, and spirit were overdue for an intense restoration. More specifically, I recognized that despite a timeline filled with peak happiness, anguish, tears, smiles, and unease, I hadn’t given myself time, space, or solitude to recalibrate mentally. In other words, “Life be Lifing” and I needed to go sit with myself, get back to center, and essentially sort through shit. 

I recently moved and have been annoyingly elated about curating a space that authentically and wildly inappropriately represents me. During this quiet time, I’ve had several a-ha moments while engulfed in self-proclaimed, expert internal discourse. I’m partly being facetious, but who else would one charge with the task of processing your every cringe moment, genius “you only live once” spark and hindsight that rears its “I told you so” ugly head in the outrageous hours of the morning. One theme that has been omnipresent in particular is the concept of saviorhood. After transitioning through a clusterfuck of organized chaos and getting settled, I realized I’m my own fucking superhero. Please ensure you do not omit the intensity behind the previous statement, as I want readers to feel the intentional impact.  

As stated in previous posts, I often learn from experiences, which can be good or bad, depending on perspective. This year alone, I’ve dealt with some pretty life-changing events, such as a significant surgical procedure, health scares with my aging parents, ending a profoundly intense relationship, and taking the plunge to start over again. With my surgery in particular, I experienced many firsts, which I still have a bit of sticker shock to. I found out I had roughly 18-20 fibroids at the end of 2023, and my doctor stated that was the equivalent of a 20-week pregnancy. My doctor explained that my condition necessitated surgery that required me to be out for 6 weeks, with a full recovery within 3-6 months. What my brain processed was, “They are going to slice you open,” which they ultimately did. Because I had been diagnosed with anemia and not that way, we girlies throw it out there because it sounds cute, lol. I had to receive three blood transfusions and four iron transfusions and had to be closely monitored afterward for days following. 

Before my procedure, I had been toiling with my therapist over the idea of mentally feeling like I was going to lose what I consider some of the most essential parts of self. I was perfectly fine with not working, but the idea of being unable to do the things I enjoy or implement to preserve myself and pour into my cup drove me wild. I could take walks to get my blood flowing and prevent clots, but that meant no working out, no yoga, no driving, no doing fun shit, and I could barely move without wincing in agony. This initially felt like I was forced to be a sitting duck, unable to trek forward with whatever bright idea I had on a whim and confined to the boundaries of my bedroom. So, I prepared the best I could, and with the fantastic support of my tribe, “Hey Hoochies,” I took this head on and healed, simply put. 

I recognized that my mental grit, resilience, and “hold my beer” mindset kick into overdrive through challenging life events. Of course, after I cry, everything works out better than I could have imagined. Whether it’s financial abundance, designing a life authentic to my desires, or building an increased capacity for discipline, I will do it. I will make the tough decisions that are rebutting my comfort, and I will do it scared. I will push my boundaries to ensure I’m continually growing into my highest version. This is not to say that any of this is easy, but it’s all well worth it. Sometimes, I’m fighting tooth and nail and will miss the lesson, but I believe the universe will give you as many lessons as needed until you get it. I got it; I got the juice.

I have the power, within reason, to conquer and maneuver through the totality of life. I have the self-awareness, the tools, the support, the willingness to learn, and the patience I’m still working on, admittedly. I don’t have to sit on the sidelines and wait for a savior outside me to take the reins or lead the way for a life I’m designing. This is not an ode to hyper-independence but, instead, a charge to all of us to recognize our power and to be our own fucking superheroes no matter how many times we may fall. Just get back up.  Please share your thoughts or stories below. Let’s chat!