I used to believe that if I could just perfect the outside, I would finally feel whole on the inside-- atleast on a deep subconscious level...
My life revolved around material things; couture dresses tailored to the exact curve of my body, high-end purses lined up like awards, shoes that symbolized status more than they ever served my feet. I remember having designers alter pieces to fit me perfectly, and if something didn’t fit, I didn’t question the garment-- I questioned my body. I would work harder, restrict more, push further. Discipline wasn’t just a mindset; it was my identity.
But the truth is, I didn’t see my body as a temple. I saw it as something separate from me. Something to control. Something to manage. Something that always needed to be fixed, refined, improved...
And while I still see art in fashion, the truth is; I kept myself busy in that world. There was always something to chase, something to buy, something to perfect. And I see now... it wasn’t just passion... It was coping. It gave me somewhere to place my attention so I didn’t have to turn inward and face the things my soul was trying to communicate.. It gave me something to strive for that wasn’t rooted in honesty.
And then, all of a sudden everything was taken from me.
There is no way to soften what that experience was like. It was mutilation in a way that english language struggles to hold. I lost my mind, my body, my spirit- everything I once used to define myself. For a long time I couldn’t feed myself. I couldn’t clean myself. Every quarter of an inch of movement felt like I was being electrocuted, like currents were running through my body without pause. Every receptor in my system felt like it was on fire, like I was burning from the inside out with no relief, no escape. And the terror engolfed me.
And in the middle of that suffering, nothing material came to greet me there..
That couture dress hanging in my closet did not come to save me...
The pair of Louboutin’s did not help me stand, let alone walk...
The Louis Vuitton purse did not carry my suffering...
All of it, hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of things, sat untouched, silent and bloody useless. Collecting dust in closets and storage units while I fought for my life in ways no one could see from the outside.
That was the moment everything became clear.
I still remember the thought that hit me like a truck--"Mama mia, material wasn’t the answer. It never was.."
What I once believed brought me joy was actually just a distraction from what I didn’t want to face within myself. It gave me something external to focus on so I didn’t have to sit with the internal discomfort, the unprocessed parts of me, the deeper truths I wasn’t ready to see or feel..
And it took losing everything for me to understand that.
There is a narrative in this world that tells us if we just acquire more: bigger homes, luxury cars, more "beautiful" things-- we will arrive to happiness. That fulfillment lives outside of us, waiting to be purchased, earned, or displayed.
But suffering strips that illusion away quickly.
When you are brought to your knees, when your body no longer functions, when your mind feels like it’s demolishing, when your spirit feels raped in darkness; none of those things seem to matter. Not even a little....
What matters is breath.
What matters is connection with self.
What matters is the ability to simply exist without pain.
And when you begin to heal (as you will), something will shift...
The simplest things become everything.
A moment of calm.
A meal you can eat on your own.
The ability to move without agony and terror.
A quiet morning.
A sense of safety in your own body.
These become the grandest experiences; because you now understand what it means to live without them.
Its true that I am still healing. That part of my journey is ongoing. But what has changed is where I look for meaning...
I no longer search for happiness outside of myself. I no longer believe that anything external can fill what is meant to be cultivated within.
And I see now that the material world, in its own way, is a great teacher.
It reflects back our attachments. Our need for control. Our desire to escape... It shows us where we are seeking validation, safety, or identity outside of our true selves. And if we are willing to look honestly... and I mean with humility, it can guide us back inward...
Because healing was never out there.
It was never in the dress, the shoes, the bag, or the image.
It was always within me. And within you..
And in many ways, I had to lose everything to finally see that...
One love,
Malissa
