I’m Not Waiting Anymore — I’m Living

Something’s been shifting in me lately.
A deep, bass-level kind of shift.
It’s not something I have to prove, or repeat over and over.
It’s just there now — in my voice, in my posture, in the quiet way I move through the day.

I’m not waiting anymore.
Not waiting for love to arrive.
Not waiting for safety to be handed to me.
Not waiting for someone else to validate how far I’ve come.

I’m living. Fully.

And part of that has come from realising:
No one can really mess with me anymore.

If someone crosses the line, I can handle it.
If someone disrespects a boundary, I can enforce it — without rage, without apology, and without over-explaining.
If someone gets physical, I can defend myself.
And if someone breaks the law, I won’t hesitate to call the police.

It’s not about being intimidating.
It’s about knowing I don’t have to be afraid to protect myself.

What I’m starting to feel is something I was never taught:
That my anger can be trusted.
That it’s not a sign I’m broken, or about to spiral.
It’s a signal. It’s sacred. It shows me where the line is.

I used to fear my anger — especially after a manic episode.
It felt risky. Dangerous. Like it could tip me over the edge.

But it wasn’t the anger that was dangerous.
It was the suppression.
It was never having a healthy outlet.
Never being taught how to feel something that strong without being consumed by it.

Now I know better.
Now I let it rise — and I meet it with clarity.
And in that process, I’ve become someone I deeply trust.

And what I found beautiful about that moment was this —
Just minutes before setting that boundary, I was deep in conversation with some of the women there.
I wasn’t guarded. I was emotionally open, asking questions I genuinely cared about, connecting in real time with curiosity and warmth.

And then, in the same breath — two minutes later — I held the line with Phil.
Calm. Clear. No drama.

To be both emotionally available and boundaried like that —
to not switch off one part of myself to access another —
that’s something I’ve never experienced before like this.

And it showed me something:
I’m not divided anymore.
I’m whole.

That, more than anything, has changed my life.
Not just feeling safe — but being safe… with myself.