9 min read · Jan 2, 2022
A Journey In Self Love and Actualization. For real.
I know someone somewhere read the title and wondered “What is a “Jesus Year?” For those who aren’t familiar with the story, Jesus of Nazareth was believed to have been crucified and resurrected during his 33rd year of life. Urban Dictionary defines Jesus Year as “The 33rd year of your life where you are reborn in some sense. Perhaps a mid-life crisis, perhaps an ego death, perhaps the year where you abandon old ways and start new.” Regardless of circ*mstance, the Jesus Year is a wildly popularized concept and the notion certainly contributed to making an example out of me.
Today is my 34th birthday and to commemorate this new chapter, I decided to publish this personal essay based on a series of journal entries throughout the year. This piece has not undergone any peer or professional review or edits, and that was an intentional decision.
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To know me is to know just how much I adore my alone time with journaling. There’s just something about documenting my comings and goings that just serves as a cathartic relief. Throughout the years, my journals have served as an unintentional guide to challenging my beliefs, perceptions, and thoughts, and it is through this practice that I have been able to celebrate progress while also pinpointing cycles and patterns that need a major overhaul if I want to continue to get a grip on this thing called life.
I recently decided to go back and read some old entries, which is something that I rarely ever do because a huge part of the catharsis is the “leave it all on the page” approach I often take to journaling. Full disclosure, I journaled vigorously in 2020 as a means to keep my mental health afloat but I have yet to muster up the courage to go back and read a lot of those tear-stained entries. Everything is still too fresh. Needless to say, flipping through those pages provided an equal sense of grace and comfort.
Grace because (even as someone who takes pride in being self-aware) there are instances that have bubbled up time and time again that I wasn’t able to clock in real-time. I’ve learned that I’m someone who loves to feel needed…someone who oftentimes over-extends empathy because I know what it feels like to not feel fully valued, even when the same courtesy isn’t necessarily extended to me. Doing this has often led to me betraying myself and my needs whilst being in the perfect position to have my time and resources taken advantage of.
Comfort because in instances of emotional manipulation and gaslighting, I now accept that I am not delusional or “crazy.” The pages in my journals thread together storied receipts, and although it’s largely from my point of view, I always try my best to be objective and to provide additional perspectives…because in times of conflict no one is right all the time. I should caution that this can be a slippery slope. I believe that each of us holds a degree of individual responsibility for the impact of our intentions, but we have to be very careful about the stories we sometimes tell ourselves as to why people do the things that they do.
For context:
My life as I knew it drastically changed at the top of 2018. I was newly 30, and without going into too much detail, I was betrayed by someone I loved. That betrayal did nothing more than amplify underlying feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness that were already simmering under the surface. How could you be so stupid, Shar?
I blamed myself for allowing the rug to be snatched from under me, and for the first time ever I was confronted with full-on long-standing depression. Depression that I still manage today. Depression that subconsciously led me to gravitate towards situations and people who (in one way or another) reinforced everything negative that I was already feeling and thinking about myself.
In the years that followed, I found a home in silence. I began to not trust myself or my intuition. I second-guessed damn near every decision. Trust me, with the type of personality I have, not being firm in decision-making undoubtedly birthed more chaos. My communication style was all over the place, and I couldn’t get a gauge on people around me. I didn’t trust anyone. In hindsight, I did the best I could for myself with what I had access to at the time and I won’t fault myself for not knowing better, because I hadn’t ever experienced better. While I recognize that it’s no one’s responsibility to care for me in the ways that I care for myself, I’ve come to learn that aspects of every relationship serve as a mirror to reflect back to us the relationship we have with ourselves. It is all connected, and because of that, I eventually hit a wall. I knew that a new emotional framework needed to be introduced and implemented. Hello there, therapy!
The truth is, my Jesus Year was spent attempting to revive my dwindling self-esteem and rediscover some of the joys of life, all things considered (yes, I’m looking at you, covid pandemic). While my professional life continued to soar to new heights–including penning my first cover story with Cultured Magazine, two articles with Variety as part of their Emmy season roll-out, landing an Our Place ad campaign, and hosting a plethora of events and panels–, my personal life was rocked. I experienced sharp changes within the dynamics of my family and with my friends. None of which I was prepared for. I often wrestle with the question of is everything experienced in life truly there by energetic invitation, or are some things just happenstance? I guess the answer is contingent on whether or not the happenings are a pattern. It should go without saying, but there was a lot of sadness, heartbreak, discomfort, grief, and adjustment that took place for me in 2021. I was inversely tasked with reclaiming agency, setting healthy boundaries, and ensuring that I’m intentionally in spaces of reciprocity, care, compassion, and love.
Come hell or high water.
I have spent a considerable amount of (wasted) time hating myself. There is just no way of sugarcoating feeling intense guilt and shame associated with an often uncontrollable human experience. The repercussions of living life by rigidly compartmentalizing everything have been a bit damaging, but I am on the mend and committed to healing. (I often joke with friends that my former inner critic sounded like Mo’Nique’s character from Precious.)
These last few years have revealed just how expansive and nuanced the gray areas of life can be. Somehow, I managed to go all of this time by subscribing to a very binary “black” and “white” way of living, and that’s simply not the reality of most aspects of my life at all. Denying the reality of some of the emotional ugliness that has come with my lived experiences didn’t do me any favors.
I had to learn to forgive myself for being human. Sounds unhinged, right? But it’s true. Years of being consumed with the idea of being whatever version “my absolute best self” looked like at the time offered minimal wiggle room for very natural human experiences and emotions to take center stage, be embraced, and be acknowledged.
Bottom line, I’ve been forced to get downright honest about the ways I have often inadvertently contributed to my own suffering by engaging in behavior patterns and interactions that ultimately do not serve me. As I celebrate the beginning of year 34, it feels like a graduation of sorts. Saturn Return has thoroughly whooped my ass. (I’m a bit of an astrological novice)…and even still, as I continue to piece the ever-changing configurations of the puzzle of life together, I am reminded that “God will not play me” and “I feel safe, I feel seen, and I have what I need” (word to Dr. Keia). The effects of living through this pandemic have reiterated how fleeting life is. The past is the past. The future hasn’t happened. There is no greater time to take care of myself than the present.
As a direct result of coming to terms with what I simply will not tolerate in my life, I began to stop making excuses for myself and others around me. My relationships grew deeper, richer, and more transparent. My personal and professional accomplishments felt sweeter. I began treating myself better. Loving on myself harder. Being more gentle and tender with myself–which in turn was a call-to-action for those around me to do the same. Anything that lagged had to be surrendered to the process. I had to get comfortable with the idea of continuously choosing myself. I had to relinquish control and pledge to myself that the rest of my life will be the best of my life. Even with the pesky gray areas, I am still deserving of the best.
My loved ones have shown and taught me a level of true patience and kindness. Being immersed in consistent affirmation and appreciation felt a bit foreign at first, but they insisted on wrapping me in love and supporting me on days when I could barely focus or function. They held me accountable and gently challenged me to readjust expectations in an effort to want better for myself. I had to accept that love (in any facet) is a verb. It is an action word, and reciprocity is a choice. Even with taking nuance into account, getting lost in the potential and promise of words instead of accepting actions as face-value is almost always set up for dysfunction and disappointment.
Just like a lot of you reading this, I am constantly working to forgive and remind myself of my humanity. I am accepting that there is no ‘destination,’ because life will always have its challenges. It is both intellectually and emotionally dishonest to think otherwise. I am ultimately left with no other choice but to believe that God’s omnipotent hand is always working in my favor. The lessons learned have been invaluable, and I write this as a person who doesn’t think suffering is a necessary component to learning a lesson. I’d argue that mismanaged hypervigilance added to my stress instead of reducing it. Subscribing to it didn’t shield me from making mistakes, instead, it punished me ten times more when I felt like I made one. Coming to terms with silencing my verbally violent inner-critic has been a key to my overall essential well-being.
It sounds cliché, but I truly feel more grounded and reassured in my power and in who I am today. I applaud my growth because I genuinely can see and feel it. It is tangible. Although I’m still sifting through what the “Everything I’ve been seeking externally, I already possess internally,” adage means to me, I can acknowledge that accessing it is possible. Do I feel like a brand new person? No, not necessarily. However, I do feel better equipped and reaffirmed as I move forward in the unpredictability of life.
As I step more into the woman I’m becoming, I’m actively choosing to celebrate the fullness of the woman that I am. Throughout the ebbs and flows of this winding road of life, I’m grateful to have a relaxed heart today. The intense feeling of being divinely aligned with my purpose and choosing to love myself above all else –flaws and all– is truly one of the greatest birthday gifts that I could ask for.
Cheers to this 34th orbit around the sun.
Happy New Year everyone & Happy Birthday to all of my fellow Capricorns!
In love,
SJ
