Day 9: Depth of my eyes. Pain behind my smile. My walls are back up…

Day 9. Freewriting. Making myself vulnerable is a challenge. Woke up this morning intending to discuss something I’m comfortable with, My Inner Circle and kind of went on a few tangents…

Inner Circle – Thank you for understanding my depth. Thank you for respecting my privacy. Thank you for asking the open-ended question: How are you? or What goals are you currently chasing? and giving me space to share what is on my mind… and actually listen. It typically takes a lot to be allowed in my inner circle. It’s not because I’m elitist, it’s because I’m soft. I’m impressionable. I listen, I absorb and I grow via the people nearest to me. There are millions of people smarter than me that have been quoted “You are the net sum of the 5 people you spend the most amount of time with” or “If you lay with the dogs, you will get fleas” or “playing with pigs will get you dirty” All sayings that make me laugh and reflect… no truer words.

The times that I allowed the wrong people in was because I was lacked something in my life. The funny thing is how the world operates through opposites. Or maybe it’s just me. Whatever I lack, I chase. Apparently. Maybe?

I’m learning the art of attracting rather than chase. If I chase, I’m desperate. If I step back, I’m self-absorbed. Fuck it, I accept both labels. Proudly. I prefer being in auto-pilot. Life is so much easier in auto-pilot. I call it Jess World. Deconstructing is such a pain in the arse! I mean, seriously. I dunno if deconstructing my world does more good or bad in this current chapter. Talking about the storm whilst in the storm is something that I’m not familiar with…

Sometimes I think that I really don’t like myself. Other times I just think that perhaps I think too highly of myself. My life, after all, is an endless dance of growth through stretch goals.


I was reading an article yesterday titled “If you want to enjoy the 1%, then be willing to do what the other 99% won’t.” The article was about the journey to Ironman. I’m not going to lie, it’s a massive feat and hats go off to anyone undertaking that journey. I know that I’m a better person after completing mine. I just haven’t decided on my capacity to continue the sport. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the community, not as petty as other athletic communities and far less filled with sexual deviants. For the most part. Slightly obsessed with muscles and how perfectly the dresses hug in the right areas. For me, it’s more about the low key confidence and lack of tolerance for the talkers. There was a point in time where a 70.3 “professional athlete” was discouraging my approach to training for a 140.6. He clearly wasn’t an athlete, nor did he use one of his biggest muscles (the one between his ears) – he had zero understanding of weight training to prevent injury. I’ve been a runner for nearly 20 years, I might not be an expert but I know a few things… And I have a fairly injury-free record to support my approach. That’s my favourite part of Ironman. It’s quantifiable: ‘Cross the finish line, then you are qualified to talk about it’ attitude. NO drama. Just a matter of fact. Put in the work, achieve your goals then share your knowledge. It drives me nuts when people mess up this order of processing…




The General’s Daughter is filled with diamonds… “it was awful… cheated? worse. drugs? worse. rape? worse. what’s worse than rape? when you find that out, then you’ll know everything, won’t you?”




My heart wants to talk about the biggest betrayal that I’ve ever had to endure but my mind will not allow my fingers to type the words. I’m not ready to rip off that band-aid. Not yet. When it comes to things close to my heart, I like to dip my toes in the water. Yesterday, I shared a soft moment. I poured my heart out and today I will dance around. I will share subtle things but not put it in black and white. That’s not true. It’s already written. Just not in order. To understand me and my journey, one has to be clever. It’s not a story that one can just jump in the and out of. The story is actually written. It’s already been told. It’s all there. Sprinkled in various social media posts. It’s telling in how I interact and respond to others. It’s the depth of my eyes. It’s the pain in my smile. It’s the joy in my tears. Yes, joy.

A wise man once said, ‘Everything has its beauty but not everyone sees it.’ Its days like today when I crawl back into my shell and hid behind the words of famous people because sharing my magic is just… terrifying. The walls go up and I just sit.


Part of my inner circle at the moment is filled with people who no longer have a heartbeat or only lived on paper. They cannot discuss things. That’s my current requirement: One-sided inspiration. Mother Theresa, Dr Suess, Steve Prefontaine, Buddha, Confucius, Mark Twain, Robert Frost… the people whom remind me of my strength, power of expressing emotions and remember to pause and enjoy each part of the journey. It’s time to sit, reflect, and just be. I don’t want to talk about anything. I want to be celebrated. I’m past verbal communication. I’m all for telepathy. If you feel my vibe, cool. If my words resonate, cool. Am I available for discussion? Absolutely not. Not right now at least. People, living people, allowed in my circle take interest in my current goals. Life is pretty simple. I’m done with cloudy intentions and people sucking my energy. People that want me to make them feel comfortable. People wanting me to stroke their ego and help build them. Sorry I’m unavailable. I’m not interested in building you when my current focus is to write a book and admire my pieces. All the beautiful pieces…

#WhyIWrite #Nanowrimo #mentalwellness #vulnerable #walls #journeytopeace #writer

Published by Jessica Corvo

Health Coach. Mental Wellness Advocate. Ironman. Global Nomad. Warrior of Love.

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