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Writer's picturelifeintoku

bag story

Years that my mind, my mind and my head repeat the same patterns, the same thoughts, the same insecurities before games. But also in my life in general. Since childhood, I have created limiting beliefs that have always made me feel insecure. This feeling was always there. Well buried, well hidden, well internalized. He always directed me towards negative thoughts. Towards limiting beliefs that tell me that I am not capable, that I cannot, that I will be wrong or that I do not know how to do. Words, phrases, spoken by others. Tutors, coaches, friends, enemies. But above all words that I have given enough importance to repeat to myself during all these years.

I have sometimes been the destroyer of my own actions and my own dreams. Because by believing too much false things that block me and which are based on the eyes of others, on their opinion, I have led to the loss of my esteem.

The day I let those words sink in my head. Letting them sink into me. In my mind and my whole body. I created the ticking time bomb that would kill that self-confidence and worth that I held.

I have always been led by the opinion of others, their opinions because I have always put others on a pedestal. Even if it means losing myself and forgetting myself. I built my being on what other people thought. Which seems logical when you know that sport is a world where the eyes are on you and your actions. Under the spotlight, you attract the eye, the one who judges and interprets what you do and are. And this was the mistake of an entire youth. Which I would rather call a long and great experience coming to awareness today ✨


Here I tell you the story of my life. The one in my backpack.


I spent years carrying the weight of this heavy, heavy bag. The one pulling my shoulders down, breaking my back and torturing my head. Bringing me down to earth every day.. the bag of my negative thoughts, my bad past experiences, this constantly present ego, this evil voice that only repeats what it has in its repertoire. This repertoire of material things, which she has seen, heard and believed.

I never protected my self-esteem and worth because I didn't know it was inside of me. I believed the whole outside world and made it my own. I filled my backpack with heavy, dirty stones of the bullshit of the world. And I focused on it. I've been going with this one for years. I gave it all possible importance. I put all my hopes into it, which had no place in it. I fought for him and let him break my back. I let those stones knock me out sometimes. I let him drown me when the waves of emotions washed over me until I fell to my knees. Helpless. I let these stones keep me from flying and feeling free. With my back bent, my eyes glued to the ground, my knees bloody, out of breath, I gave up. I cracked and collapsed. I then stopped walking for two months and I did not move. I took a pose so I could breathe again. To regain energy. I sat on the ground and like any motionless being, alone with himself, I began to listen to myself. I heard how much pain I was in. I heard my soul cry out from within, urging me to save myself. So I looked for solutions to soothe myself and to heal my most present and most significant wounds.


Then the day came when I decided to get up. To move forward again and persevere to feel better. So I decided to leave on the side of my road, day after day, all the stones of my backpack. Exhausted from fighting them, I decided to stop the war and abandon them. One by one. That day was the day I made the decision to let go. I left each of them behind me. A bit like Tom Thumb scattering the stones behind him in order to find his way back. The difference is that I had no intention of finding my way back. I had decided to leave them here so that they would lead me to another. A new path. That of resilience. That of liberation. They marked the ground and symbolically represented the weight of my past. Of my worst experiences, my worst thoughts. My sufferings. The brakes of a life. I turned around sometimes to observe them. They are much better over there, on the path of my old life. Seeing them like that sometimes made me shed tears. Tears of release, which were way too buried inside me. I loved and still love cried on my new path. Because crying allows me to breathe better and calm this ocean storm. The more I advanced, the more my body became lighter and lessened its suffering. The further I went, the more he healed. He was getting back on his feet. The spirit was relieved. Freed himself. I felt my shoulders straighten, my back realign, my head lift and my eyes open. I was no longer looking down, my eyes were fixed on the horizon. One of all possibilities. The one of all opportunities. I began to listen, to feel and to see. To listen to me, to feel me and to see me. The world began to attract my curiosity. I opened up to the people around me, to nature and to what was beyond me. I saw that there were different ways of looking at life. Different way of thinking and being positive. From my past vision and the one I had now. But also by all those of others that I met on my way and especially those that I was able to create.


The day my bag was emptier than ever.

I felt naked. No more weight. And it is there that on the road to my healing, I had the most beautiful encounter. The encounter with myself. With my soul. Without barriers or straps. So I opened the doors to love. Love of life. Love for myself. Unconditional love. I could see how much room I had to fill this new bag. That I had the choice to put whatever I wanted inside. That he was great and limitless. Infinite. So it was my free will to fill it with good and beautiful things and all the abilities I possessed. The day my bag was empty was the day I was reborn. The day I realized how I had chosen to treat myself in the past. The way I was naive and ignorant. And the way I never loved myself. Never allowed to live. To know, to create, to vibrate and believe in my own happiness. I let myself be suffocated by negative ideas, toxic thoughts that prevented me from being who I wanted.


It was the day when I realized that my bag could have put me six feet underground but was also able to make me fly and shine six meters above the sky. This is where I chose to use my past as a friend and not an enemy. I made it my ally to remind me of all the beautiful things, all the wonderful experiences I went through. I only took the positive. Then I realized my worth. I understood that I knew, that I could because I was in control. I rediscovered how great and beautiful my worth was. That I mattered in this world like you do and everyone else around us. That I had a place. The place to exist. To show the whole world who I am.


Today is the day I finally understood what Raphaëlle Giordiano meant in her book “Your second life begins when you realize you only have one.”

Mine starts today. And finally I can say that I live again. A new time. With the wholeness of my being and the depth of my soul.

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