Every other Saturday I spend the day helping people relax. I'm a massage therapist. Really it's one of the best jobs I’ve ever had and I’ve had a few. The only thing about giving massages all day is that on the following day most of the time I feel completely wiped out, funny thing is most of the time I forget that I worked so hard the day before and I'm always wondering why I am so tired. Most of the time it will dawn on me at some point that”oh ya, I did eight hour massages yesterday" that would explain the draggy feeling. At the moment I'm half way through the day and so far I’ve only had 4 hour massages. I at this point have two more to go, not so busy today I guess.
How had I come to believe, that the deep things of my heart and mind were not important? Who told me they didn’t care about the things I was feeling or thinking about? The truth of the matter was, that no one actually said I don’t care about what you think or feel, they just never bothered to ask. Never being asked is another way to let someone know that they are not valued. In response to some of the most important people in my life not bothering to pursue my young heart and mind, I believed I had nothing to offer or give that would be of any value to anyone else. I believed I was stupid. I heard it over and over in my heart and head with out a second of doubt of its truth. Not until my twenty sixth year did the truth that I believed about myself reveal it’s self as a lie. There were six of us who met each week, five younger women and our leader, a woman the five of us had approached to ask if she would be willing to let us learn from her and be mentored and guided ...
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