Allowing All Of Me

The most common form of despair is not being who you are ~ Soren Kierkegaard

All of my suffering has always come from not allowing myself to be all of me.

I have hid myself from the world at large. I even hid from myself. I have conformed. I have opted for “looking good” rather then what felt right in my heart and in my gut. I have been polite. I have been sweet and agreeable. I have held my tongue. I have covered up. I have missed opportunities. I have hurt myself. I have made life choices based on what you might think of me. I have gone to great lengths to make myself smaller (physically, emotionally, and spiritually) and more what I thought was more attractive in the same sense.

I had a belief that this, who and what I really am, is/was simply just not good enough.

Good enough for what? To be seen.

To be seen…this has been both my greatest desire and my greatest fear. How’s that for conflict?

I was born with a desire to shine. I am talking spotlight, on stage, the whole deal. I told my mom when I was a little kid that one day I would be so famous people would dress up like me on Halloween. I wanted to be so good at something that the world would benefit from my crazy good talent. What that talent was, wasn’t clear. There was the wanting to save the world while also the wanting fame and fortune. Although these felt conflicting I knew I was supposed to go big. It was like a sparked flame burning in my gut that only needed fanning. However, the energy needed to fan this flame was lost along the way. Instead, my focus slowly turned to the constant game of catch up that only those in the “not enough” game could truly understand. I spent my time and energy managing other people’s opinions of me rather then BEING me. The flame dulled. I had begun to forget who I was.

Enter despair.

I am not exactly sure when this belief that I was not enough was born.

My parents loved me. They told I was amazing and beautiful and everything they could dream for in a daughter. I was encouraged and loved.

So why would I choose not to believe those messages and create new ones of my own?

Well, turns out I didn’t create anything new. These beliefs of mine that kept me small in every sense of the word, were actually a great legacy handed down. Life times of women keeping themselves small- in every sense of the word.

A belief is really a practiced thought. Something we think over and over and over again. Women in my family have been thinking they are “not enough” for generations. THAT is a pretty deep seeded belief system.

Let me be very clear because I feel it needs to be said, I am not here to blame. I do not believe my struggles are anyone’s “fault”. I am not pointing a shaming finger at the generations of women that have gone before me. Far from it. I am here to celebrate these women. These women who did the best they could with what they had. Whose own stories have been so delicately woven into mine. My sarcastic sense of humor, my belly laugh that leads to a, sometimes, weak bladder J , my love of movement, my comfort and joy with motherhood, my desire for creativity, my strength, my womanly curves, my heart for God……all a part of our shared story. I love this band of beauties I come from. We are a force to be reckoned with. I just imagine what would open up for our daughters if when passing things down, however knowingly or subconsciously, we would include a bold sense of self and an unwavering belief in our luminous selves. What if the notion that we needed to fit a mold, be thin, be liked, be….perfect….was not even in our DNA anymore?

I want to honor where I come from. I want to dig into the beauty and messiness of it all. I believe by intentionally searching for the truth and the light, even if we have to go to some dark places to do so, we can all heal. With healing, our ability to love will be amplified. We will uncover the wings to fly that we had all along.

It’s been said that God uses our stories to tell His story.

I am here to tell my story.