I am a carer.

I am a lover.

I am an empathizer.

I am a sympathizer.

I am a worrier.

I am a heart that breaks for others.

I am sensitive.

I am a ball of fear.

I am concealing, and yet feeling.

I am an over thinker.

I am a stress maker.

I am a stress taker.

I am all the things that mean that my identity is wrapped up in my approach to other people.

I am taking on more than I can chew.

I am a panicker.

I swing through anxiety and depression like I am on a zip line.

I am a coper who can handle anything.

I am an ostrich who hides her head instead of coping.

I am a helper.

I am a hinderance.

I am an advocate.

I am an activist.

I am a conduit for other people’s pain, but it siphon some off, and keep it for myself.

I am a listener.

I am a learner.

I am a friend.

I am a mother.

I am a partner.

I am a sister.

I am a daughter.

I am connected in so many ways through tendrils to the past and the future.

I am part of the web of life that takes everything from me, and which I willingly give.

I do too much.

I do too little.

I am a woman.

I am a human.

I deserve to exist no more and no less than any other person.

I am pitied and pitying.

I am judged and judging.

I am all the things that it takes to be a whole person, and all the things it takes to be broken.

I am here.

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iamwhoiam

iambrave

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