"And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight in the bud was more painful then the risk it took to blossom". Anais Nin

So, at some point, hiding from the inevitable was far more painful than I could stand, anymore. I spent most of last year in therapy. We were able to label what caused my reluctance to grow.....I didn't like the label and was afraid to give it any credibility, however, nonetheless, the label fit. I made some progress and while I was growing, my loved ones, stagnant in their own 'reluctance to grow' circled about me wondering what was happening. I did not know for sure that it was growth, because while we are in a growth spurt, we almost surely have to be on the other side of it to know that it was in fact a growth spurt. I know that it was uncomfortable and once I began recognizing it for what it was, I realized that my loved ones were not growing with me and probably would not grow with me. It was hard to move on without them and in some instances, I allowed myself to fall back to their pace in order to hold onto the old feelings of "safety" our dance created for me. I had hoped they would join me, so that I would not be alone on the journey, but, alas, it is my journey, not theirs and I realized that we would all be uncomfortable for a time, while we all adjusted to my growth. Some of my loved ones are having a harder time with my growth than others. I don't think they have seen it for what it is, moving forward, growing, changing, evolving, blossoming. They are afraid. What they don't realize is that I am more araid than they are. Scared to death that everything I have ever known is really very small and narrow and limited. Rather, knowing that beyond our collective comfort zone is a world that is vast and if I chose to embrace it, I might leave here and them. Ultimately, I have allowed myself to believe that blossoming would be a betrayal to them, instead of a tribute to their love for me. Perhaps, I use their struggle with my growth as a crutch to keep me in the struggle, straining against the bud, only to realize I am the one embracing the risk to stay within the bud and forgoing the blossom.