Real Stories


Dear Universe,

Everything is beautiful and none of us are happy.

I am sensitive and I am strong. I am a kind person. I am passionate, angry, obsessive and I am honest, caring and loyal. I am unapologetic when I know I’m in the right. I am easily jealous, I am sometimes manipulative when I shouldn’t be and I have the capacity to hurt people with my words. I am insecure but I am confident and open. I am curious about everything and everyone. I am loving.

I’m a singer, photographer, writer and a thinker. I am a teacher, a mentor, a manager and a leader. I am a student. I am a dancer. I am definitely a hugger. I’m a talker, listener and mediator. I am a nomad and I’m also a nester. I am a friend, a girlfriend, a daughter, a sister, an aunt.

I am not a mother.

I am not a mother. Can’t lie… that sucks. It’s the only thing I can honestly say I want to be and have always wanted. Without it, I feel like I have no purpose. I know.

*Insert Melodramatic Sigh Here*

I get that I sound dramatic and it’s an over the top statement. Somehow, even with such a full existence and so much to be grateful for, finding my purpose and meaning without a family seems impossible. It’s hard for me to explain exactly what I mean but I want to try. Maybe if I explain this to you, Universe, you can give me more peace and help me understand what I’m doing here. Maybe there are some people who feel the same way and have the similar struggles. Maybe, just by getting it out there; my fear and underlying sadnesses, it can help heal it. Maybe.

I have started out on a voyage of self-discovery (okay, that makes it sound a lot more grand than it actually is – more of a journey in a little van and a nice chunk of time to think), and dear lordy, is there time to think! I will come back to that another day but, just to say, there are a lot of moments in a day and when you are by yourself those moments are longer and thoughts really have time to develop. I wanted this. I wanted time to process and reassess. I’m either hoping for an epiphany and ultimate enlightenment (not likely, but a girl can dream) or a slow realisation that everything will be okay and you will look after me, Universe. I’m not there yet. I’m full of doubts. Not many answers yet but definitely got some questions for you.

If I know who I am and value who I am, why do I still feel like I have no purpose? If I know that one day, one way or another, I will be a mother then why do I not feel reassured? If I am loved and have so many special people I love then why is that not enough for me? Why have I put so much importance on this one aspect of our human existence? Is it biological!? Am I just a victim of my animal instincts? Or am I content enough with everything else in my life, but just searching for perfection?

Nobody gets everything they want. Striving for perfection is lunacy. Striving for perfection harms us and negates anything short of perfect, it diminishes amazing things and makes us see them as just ‘good enough.’ How sad. Perfectly imperfect contentedness; I want to strive for that. I want to make every effort to appreciate what I already have.

I’m not exactly sure how to do that but I reckon the idea is a good one. I’ve had this aim in mind since I started my journey. I’ve been purposely appreciating everything I have but the part I’m struggling with is still yearning for something more. For some people it’s a successful career, others have religion or spiritual beliefs, lots of people draw from nature, some special people devote themselves entirely to an important cause and most of us find meaning and a purpose for being in love. For me, it is motherhood. It’s not on the horizon at the moment and I don’t want to miss and waste all the things I do have because of my overwhelming obsession with a future life that doesn’t actually exist.

When you are completely focussed on one thing being the most important thing in your life, everything else falls short. I am passionate about so many things and I get joy from so many people, places and experiences. None of these things seem to fulfill me though. I am never quite fulfilled or content. Any suggestions, Universe? Any ideas of how to stop yearning for more? Maybe it is just my nature but I’d like to think I can learn to accept the beauty around me and find a content way of being in this wonderful world.

Some people have the most fantastic families, but wish they had more money. Some people have an awesome connection to nature but long for a partner to share it with. Some people have faith in something bigger and still struggle with their lot in life. Some people are completely passionate about their jobs but dream of peace and quiet. These are the lucky people. I am one of these lucky people. Why is what we have not enough for us?

I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever know. I guess, for now, I don’t need a purpose. Or maybe I don’t need to know what my purpose is.

I am going to love the journey. I’m going to appreciate the searching. I am going to strive for perfectly imperfect. I am going to trust that if what I want is meant to be, then it will be.

Thank you,

PS. Please send love and support to anyone else searching for meaning. It’s a shit place to be sometimes and they may need a hug.

by Charlotte Strawbridge

I started writing letters to the Universe a little over a year ago. It's been quite a journey. Having quit my job, left my flat and bought a camper-van, I headed off, and I've been writing about my personal journey ever since.

I am looking forward, trying not to plan too much. I am learning to live in the now, after thirty years of living anywhere but. I am processing the past and letting it go.

In this past year, I've had the joy of working as a Karma Yogi and the beautiful, and painful experience, of a ten day silent retreat. I've had time to ponder the strength of women, new ways of forgiving and forgetting, what it really means to surrender, the feeling of 'being' and how exciting peace can be, and so many other doubts and thoughts that popped up along the way.

It's not always sunshine, love and frickin' rainbows... in fact, sometimes writing to the Universe really challenges me to go deep, be brutally honest (embarrassing and dark thoughts and all!) and I've found myself sharing some thoughts on topics that really hit home; grief, eating disorders and the pining for motherhood were tough.

I write from the heart, from me to the Universe.


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