As I attended a recent community gathering experience this month and found myself in the midst of some deep work. Through the channeling, we were called to make contact with our “Inner Child” as part of a guided meditation.

As we dropped into it, my inner child appeared to me – this tiny little girl, in a drab colors and dress in ragged clothes. At the same time I felt this piercing pain through my heart – Alone. She was me, but around the age of 5 or 6. She was facing away from me, and looking back and around her all was darkness, a desolate bush land it felt like, similar to the places my sister and I used to play in as children.

The tears started to fall as I felt the depth of loneliness she was feeling, and recognized it was deep, deep, down. An acclimatized place in my psyche, where I was always alone. A belief that has shaped parts of my life.

I will always be alone.

I think that’s the first time I’ve put it in words. As my mentors say, the breadcrumbs are always there, leading us to our core wounds, core lessons in life. They open us up to our purpose, what we’re meant to do and experience, who we’re meant to learn from and teach.

I will always be alone.

I could tell many stories about this belief, as I look retrospectively at my life so far. Bad relationships based on the fear of being alone, childhood bouts of isolation, morose poetry from my teenage years about dying alone and feeling nothing. The impact of looking different and how alopecia has shaped my life. Even my dancing, never being good in duets – always wanting to be part of the pack or chorus, or embracing it and doing cathartic solo performances.

A desire for deep connection, but also the craving for hiding in the group, not wanting people to get too close, to know me better, deeper – walls I put up for protection. The belief, keeping me safe from vulnerability.

There is a big difference between feeling alone and just being alone. Until I moved to New York City, I always had a big group of friends and family around me. Amazing work colleagues, old school friends, dance sisters, cousins, my birth family. I never really was ALONE. And that’s an important thing about the beliefs we hold. Despite this array of company, it still carried through those years until the lesson was ready to repeat.

While my steadfast relationships remain, the numbers have dwindled, and 4 years ago I found myself in another country, far from home – one of the most populated yet loneliest cities in the world.

I will always be alone.

As this belief settled in place, the message from my inner child that night came out – No. No more. I can’t always be alone. I can’t do it anymore. It is time to find my people, those I can be myself with.

I believe most of us crave attachment, and community. New York CIty is so considered to be one of the loneliest cities, that there are people here building careers around creating connections and places to connect. They write books, facilitate events, build communities – just to fight this. So I suppose in a way, I’ve found myself in the perfect place, to change this belief and start to let people in.

I will always be alone.

When we uncover deep set beliefs that shake us to our core, or even just feel a little off – we need to go into the body and question them. Ask ourselves, is this true? Or just a story I’ve been telling myself for so long that I’ve come to accept is as truth. Our bodies know the truth, whether that’s a message from our inner child, our gut, our intuition or our higher self. Whatever you believe that voice to be, it can guide you back into truth.

I honestly don’t know what my next steps here are, often we can only see exactly what is in front of us and nothing more. But acknowledging there was a belief that led me on a certain path, doing the work to unravel it and change it, this is always a good place to start.

If you’re in New York City and looking for community I recommend subscribing to The Joylist curated by Jillian Jacobs. I’ve been a follower for a long time and am hoping to make it to one event a month this year. Reach out if you’re going to head to one – I’d love to connect.