The same road, different versions of me.
Today I found myself travelling a road I’ve travelled at several very different stages of my life.
The first time, I was teenage Vicki. A young girl escaping a difficult home life, being driven by her first love, Liam. His granny’s bungalow became somewhere I could go, somewhere I felt accepted for exactly who I was, at a time when I struggled to feel I fitted in. I visited it again today, although she’s no longer there.
Years later, I travelled that same road again,as Tori, navigating the end of my marriage, rebuilding my life and finding my feet in a new chapter 12 years ago.
And today, here I am again. I’m driving myself, to visit a grave connected to another difficult chapter in my family’s story. My eldest sons dad, Daniel’s.
Three different stages of my life. Three different versions of me. One familiar road. Omagh to Fintona.
The scenery might not have changed much, but I certainly have.
I’m now in my forties, doing the work to understand myself, reconnect with the parts of me I perhaps had to leave behind, and discover who I am beyond everything life has asked of me.
Perhaps this is what healing looks like. Not going backwards, but revisiting places and memories from our past with a different perspective.
Today, I wasn’t just driving down a road. I was travelling through chapters of my own life.
And now, as I settle into my TentBox for the evening, I find myself reflecting on just how far I’ve travelled, both literally and emotionally.
I’m beginning to make room for every version of me. ❤️
