Where’s my fairytale, you ask? My knight? And my happily ever after? All I have are nightmares, who tell tales and I end up sadder than ever. Because, my beauty, a fairytale is a story written by somebody else. You’re not somebody else’s story, you are not a template.
Have you ever been away from a toxic environment for a period of time and started to feel like yourself again? Started to recognize yourself again and your worth? You know that incredible feeling you get when you come back to your senses about who you are and what you want out of life and how inspired you feel just thinking about it?
Why do we travel to the past in our minds? Why do we get so caught up in what happened, when, where, how, with who and relive it as it were happening right now? Going back to the past is exhausting, it’s draining and it robs you. It robs you of your happiness, it robs you of your now and it even robs you of your future.
We all have different vehicles in life and they’re not the kind you automatically think of. The vehicles I write about are more metaphorical and somewhat spiritual. The ‘vehicles of life’ still take you from point A to point B, but unlike a car, bus, train or plane that takes you to a physical destination, the ‘vehicles of life’ take you from one chapter of your life to another.