The process of unfolding

I grew up the youngest of four. In a 3 bedroom apartment. What would be considered a fairly large complex. Needless to say space was limited. Among other things. It was the limitation of the physical environment that added to the undermining of the psychological and spiritual expansion of myself. There was never room or time or opportunity to be alone or left alone. Someone was always in my space. The 3 feet personal space rule does not apply when one lives in such limited quarters. The persistent inundation of my physical and emotional boundaries from a very young age forward never provided me with any moments to explore my being-ness. A constant influx of information and energies literally washing me away from myself. I still don’t like crowds, crowded places and enclosed spaces. To top it of, I’m an introvert. A person who is energized by spending time alone. It took what now feels like eternity to figure that out for myself. I indeed consider myself a late bloomer. Yes, I have done things at a young age. I have also done things that others won’t do in their lifetime. But that’s not what I mean. I am talking about coming into my own. Such a long and delicate process, to get to know oneself well enough to love oneself in one’s own entirety.