I was out for a run and he showed up, running one step in front of me. He knows that I hate it, I honestly can’t stand it. He runs just out of reach and it doesn’t seem to matter if I pick up my pace or not, he will just pick up his. It has been our relationship since the moment I met him. Just when I felt like I wanted to slow my pace and that it wasn’t worth it, he would make a sneering comment. It was his form of encouragement, and tonight was no different.

“You said that you wanted to grow” he said.

“I do” I bolted back at him almost immediately and with fairly fierce intention in my voice.

“Then stop complaining, no one said it would be comfortable” he said with a smirk in his tone.

“I didn’t say a word” I said as I looked down at my feet rather than focusing on the hill that I was running up, he was still just a stride ahead of me and had me running outside of a comfortable pace.

“Don’t play with me, I can hear your thoughts and you were complaining” he poked back at me.

I was silent and wasn’t sure if I wanted to say “oh, fuck you” or “thank you”. He was a perfect guide for me. I didn’t always like the way that he taught me, it was often harsh and blunt, but he knew me well and had been instrumental with my spiritual growth.

“Fuck you too. You are welcome. And, I will beat you to the top of the hill” he said as he picked up his pace.

Growth is often uncomfortable. All of my growth has required me to be raw and real and vulnerable. It has required me to look at myself with a different lens, sideways, upside down, from the top and bottom. It has forced me to dig at wounds that felt too raw to address. It has forced me to hold myself accountable. Growth is uncomfortable and it is also the essence of life and love.