I used to live my life in fear. Fear of doing the wrong thing, fear of making the wrong choice, fear of not being good enough. I charted out my life’s course like I was CEO of a start-up. I created spreadsheets for financial goals, designed projections on the career paths I might take, and tried to control as much as I could. I was a junkie and my drug of choice was achievement : my income, title, weight, and marital status were holding up my identity like a tack on a cork board. The determined and ambitious person I am exercised rigidity and control to make myself feel safe. Once the pressure to fix everyone and everything reached a tipping point - a seemingly normal conversation turned a lightbulb off in my head. Suddenly, I couldn’t un-see it: everything I knew was a lie.
I was confidently going in the direction of a dream that did not align with who I was, quieting the little voices inside of me and hoping I would be rewarded for my sacrifice. I operated out of guilt, duty, and self loathing. How hard I tried to follow these self-imposed rules, desperate for something to change, is not lost on me. The connections I missed out on. The judgements I placed on other people. The expectations I placed on my life that left me constantly disappointed. No one told me that there were other ways to solve problems so I went based on what I knew - putting my head down and charging ahead, losing bits and pieces of myself along the way.
Once the ground feel beneath me and I was forced to scrap my moral code that I clutched so firmly in my clammy hands - I dangerously latched onto anything that offered comfort. I was also deeply sad: I felt like a giant bubble, floating haplessly around and ready to pop at any slight gust of wind. I tried everything: daily journaling, therapy, meditation, reiki, mushrooms, acupuncture, yoga, countless teary calls with my best friends, affirmations, vision boards. To what end? Was I just going back to my operating code and trying to “fix” this too?
What changed for me was living based on how I want to feel. I want to exhale as I feel the salty ocean on my skin. I want to feel exhilarated and light when I land my salsa step with a partner who wordlessly connects with me. I want feel warm and cozy when I open my tent to breathe in fresh air as my friend drops coffee by my door. I want to kiss boys on lifeguard stands and feel butterflies and tipsy desire. I want to sit around the bonfire and laugh so hard that I tear up. I want to go to sleep in my own bed feeling calm and soothed. I may not know what career I want to have or if I should freeze my eggs or what kind of car I want to buy - but I know I want to feel it all. I don’t ever want to give away that connection again.
I read the book, “Letters to my Daughter” by Maya Angelou many years ago, but it took my own recent call to consciousness to really understand this message from her: “I am convinced that most people do not grow up. We find parking spaces and honor our credit cards. We marry and dare to have children and call that growing up. I think what we do is mostly grow old. We carry accumulation of years in our bodies and on our faces, but generally our real selves, the children inside, are still innocent and shy as magnolias.
We may act sophisticated and worldly but I believe we feel safest when we go inside ourselves and find home, a place where we belong and maybe the only place we really do.”
I am not unsubscribing from my giant list of healers anytime soon: instead I remain grateful every single day that I have the opportunity to grow and find a home within myself. None of us are guaranteed a tomorrow; my challenge is to allow myself to feel good today. To rebound from setbacks. And to enjoy my life, and all the imperfect sweetness, exactly as it is right now.
What a beautiful insight into your mind. Are we meant to have all the answers? No, I don't think so. I admire your journey of self discovery and I'm glad it has brought you here. Or there ;)