imperfectly courtney

it was hot and humid, the sun danced along my skin illuminating the glitter that had fallen off my dress. there were people everywhere, but all i could think of was you. i was late, of course, and you already planned to meet me under the magnolia tree. i turned the corner and saw you standing there. “Hiiiiiiiii. Okay, I’m here” i screamed excitedly. you turned around. our eyes connected time stood still. you, my love, are my rock. my childish, giddy, enthusiastic soul needed your peaceful, consistent, persistent love to anchor me. that moment, our moment, is one i will cherish forever. the rest of the night was a…

the way we experience the world relies on many factors… from our race to culture socioeconomic status to attachment styles…. and so many more things. throughout my counseling education I have been extremely reflective and attempting to have a level of insight that allows me to understand how and why I behave I do. I’ve written papers about my cultural identity formation, sexual identity formation, and even a 12 page research paper about how my experience of identity foreclosure in adolescence set the stage for many issues. all that educational background to say despite how much insight I try to have sometimes I’m blindsided by my own behavior. I struggle…

have been struggling in so many ways. I used to be one who shared every struggle and every success on social media. It was my therapy. It made me feel less alone and was one of the biggest weapons I had to fight my demons. Something about exposing my darkness made it less scary. But the last few years I’ve struggled, mostly in silence. I’ve shared moments of both struggle and victory, but each have been muted… Filtered… Because I couldn’t bear to face them all at once or in their fullness. Because I felt obligated to “look on the bright side” and “find the silver lining” and some days……