The last time I was at Karaponga Falls, I was on a date. Sounds romantic, I know. We spent a few hours sitting by the waterfall just talking, eating fresh berries from a local farm and me endlessly wondering how you would actually kiss a man with a beard the size of his. Unfortunately, I never did find out. His beard was glorious, and I often found myself mesmerised how he managed to keep it clean when he was eating.

We clicked intellectually and spiritually - I have a thing for intelligent men after all. He was in his thirties, though still a few years younger than me. What he lacked in years, he sure made up for in height. It seems tall, intelligent men is my favour. You can’t help what you’re attracted to, right?

What Happens After The Hurt? Three Ways To Make Space For The New

Here’s a question for you - what happens after you’ve removed yourself from the space of hurt but you haven’t moved on...yet? I ask because I’m there, sort of just treading water, not wanting to lose sight of land, but the excitement of what is beyond the horizon calls me too. Wait, isn’t that the plot of Moana? I’m no island princess, but New Zealand is an island, well islands, and leaving these shores is all I’ve been looking forward to since I made that decision last year.

I think when you reach that place, that’s when you have to decide what you’re going to keep and what you need to let go. Are you a traveller that packs the bare essentials, or do you pack for every single scenario then get there and realise you’re still only going to wear the same five pieces of clothing anyway.

Holding on to emotional baggage is just as heavy and self-sabotaging, so here are three ways I learned to let go of what no longer served me so that I can make space for the life I truly want.

Life, Dating, Relationships, Self LoveRonna Grace Funtelar10 January 2018afterthehurt, space clearing, belief systems, moving onComment

Space Clearing

Next year I’m going on another journey - I’m moving to South America. At the start of all this, I promised myself that I wouldn’t run away, and I’ll only leave this town when I’ve found peace and ready to move on. What I’ve learned is that when you experience emotional trauma, peace comes from conscious acts of forgiveness. Isn’t the real gift from all of this is that before I leave, I will no longer take for granted this beautiful place I’ve called home all these years? When I speak of my hometown, it will be not where I was broken, but where I became something greater than what I could have ever imagined.