a place where the little things matter. Lover of Something is for the culture enthusiast; a fan page for music, movement, and other moments of delight.

There was once a pregnant lion that was on its last legs. She dies soon after giving birth. The newborn not knowing what to do makes its way into a nearby field and mingles with a herd of sheep. The mother sheep sees the cub and decides to raise it as its own.

And so the lion cub grows up along with the other sheep and starts thinking and acting just like a sheep. It would bleat like a sheep and even eat grass!

But it was never truly happy. For one, it always felt that something was missing. And secondly, the other sheep would constantly ridicule it for being so different.

They would say, “You are so ugly and your voice sounds so weird. Why can’t you bleat properly like the rest of us? You are a disgrace to the sheep community!”

The lion would just stand there and take in all these remarks feeling extremely sad. It felt it had let down the sheep community by being so different and that it was a waste of space.

One day, an older lion from a far off jungle sees the herd of sheep and decides to attack it. While attacking, it sees the young lion running away along with the other sheep.

Curious as to what was happening, the older lion decides to stop chasing the sheep and pursues the younger lion instead. It pounces on the lion and growls asking it why it is running away with the sheep.

The younger lion shakes in fear and says, “please don’t eat me, I am just a young sheep. Please let me go!”.

Upon hearing this, the older lion growls, “That’s nonsense! You are not a sheep, you are a lion, just like me!”.

The younger lion simply repeats, “I know I am a sheep, please let me go”.

At this point, the older lion gets an idea. It drags the younger lion to a river nearby and asks it to look at its reflection. Upon looking at the reflection, the lion much to its own astonishment realizes who it really was; it was not a sheep, it was a mighty lion!

The young lion feels so thrilled that it lets out a mighty roar. The roar echoes from all corners of the jungle and frightens the living daylights out of all the sheep that were hiding behind the bushes to see what is happening. They all flee away.

No longer will the sheep be able to make fun of the lion or even stand close to it for the lion had found its true nature and its true herd.

Accepting ourselves can be terrifying.
even after starting down the road of awareness,
even after being brave enough to emerge from the shadows of insecurity & self-doubt,
even after firmly assigning self-ultimatums time and time again.
The healing journey is non-linear.

We often hear about the bright side of “doing the work.” Songs about the happy days when all routines are in order and when all is prepared.

But what happens during a slip? A moment half-done?
When a familiar yet unhealthy pattern rears its head?
When brain matter is clouded with disappointment?
And the feels just linger and linger....

and linger.

I take a moment to remember that healing is akin to danse macabre, a haunting tango between old patterns and new pathways.

Healing is a process of accepting the self as a whole, the subjective “good” and “bad.” Healing is an action.

My healing involves transmutation. It requires me to take responsibility of own happiness, health, and wellbeing through routines and plans. My healing poses the question: “How can I plan to change what I am feeling rather than being so disappointed in myself for feeling?”

I constantly asked myself this question this weekend as I wrangled through messy post-New Year feelings of dejection and shame. In 2022, I worked hard to establish systems and routines that would ensure positive emotion regulation. I could not believe I did not prepare myself for a fully loaded day and, ultimately, I showed up in a way contrary to my vision. For days following, I muddled critical thoughts on paper until I approached a state similar to acceptance. Acceptance that I am a human not a machine, and that I deserve grace, compassion, love, patience, and support. And, that I deserve those things from myself FIRST.

It is easy to sit and be embarrassed by who you used to be in pursuit of who you want to be.
The people pleaser,
the girl who said yes when her gut screamed no,
the girl who gave too much,
the girl who talked herself out of opportunities,
the girl who just never felt worthy.
the girl who hated all the mirrors around her.
the list goes on and the list deserves to be let go.

One of the things I love about this short story is that it reminds me that it is never too late to see your reflection and remember who you are in the present moment rather than a past memory. Forgiveness, self-compassion, and grace are necessary to make it to the other side of the mountain.

I spent so much of my adult life going against myself. Constantly seeking validation from those who could never see me, constantly doubting myself. Being in rooms I prayed for and not believing I deserved to be there. Over analyzing. blah. blah. blah.

In 2023, I am looking in the water. Carrying its loving essence with me. Accepting myself for the work I have done so far to be this new version of myself who is less afraid, more comfortable in her skin, and who knows that she is not a sheep.

To all of the “older lions” in my life, my loving friends, my sweet family: I thank you for all of the times you carried me to the water when I didn't have the strength to go by myself.

In addition to 2023 being the year where self-compassion trumps all, I am excited to navigate unexplored territory (like sharing my thoughts beyond Twitter screams) aka this blog.

While this first post is not about music, movement, or other moments of delight, the next one will be. I hope this short story + note encourages anyone who needs it.

I thank you for being here for this first post. More interesting things are coming soon.

<3
sal