I've been remembering things.
Like me asking mum what a t-shirt bra was, and her telling me it was for making boobs look smooth and good under a t-shirt - but clearly implying, or maybe outright telling me, that this was a silly, bad thing to want.
I remembered this when I put my orange dress on and liked the way my boobs looked.
I want my boobs to look good and that's ok.
And looking at luxury holidays or thinking about the kind of house or life or business I would have with lots of money, I remembered walking along Victoria St looking through the gates of the big houses longingly.
We were walking with neighbours, from our Women's Shelter halfway house, who were doing the same thing.
Mum told me, "That's not you." Like I shouldn't dream of a big fancy house like they were. It wasn't right or good or spiritual, was the implication. I was better than that. She told me it wasn't me and I took it.
And it wasn't totally me - the wistful envy - but it was partly.
And what I could never have expressed then, but I see now, is that the outward appearance of me copying the wistful envy of others, wasn't what I was actually feeling.
Deep down I wasn't wistful, like it was all some impossible pipe dream. Deep down, I felt the stirring of a bigger picture, a bigger calling, an immensely powerful feeling of all that is and was going to be possible in my life.
But then I was told, "That's not you." No one could have know what was stirring inside me.
That dream of wealth and richness and a life beyond. Much more than simply envy of the lives of the 'lucky few' - it wasn't that at all, really.
But I pushed it ALL away then, believing it was bad to want money. Better, more moral and righteous, to be poor and not think about such things.
And so I hated my body and I hated my ambitions and dreams. They seemed to be calling me to something that was wrong, so I rejected those parts of myself.
I don't blame my mum, or any of the other myriad of people and messages that were handed to me over my life, which I took on as my own. We have all been told that some desires are okay, while others are bad.
And even within these remembered moments that shut pieces of me down, were other awakened things, other learnings and growth that make me who I am now.
But now I accept and see it all, not just the 'right' things.
I re-embrace my desires, whatever they are.
I like my body and I like it to look good in clothing.
I like money and I want an abundance of it and I want a luxurious life.
This is all good.
I won't sell my soul for any of it. None of it necessary for health and happiness and fulfilment - my life is not contingent on getting these things.
My purpose is what it is regardless. And I will live that out.
But my purpose is found within my desires. These and all the others.
And they are my goals and I am not vapid or bad for wanting them.
And neither are you.