becoming a well-paced woman.
I want to be proud of the woman I am right now. Is my pride only contingent upon my circumstances? Can I still be proud despite living in my dad’s house and having a bank account that I side eye? Am I any less than the version of me that has her own place and is well-paid? Doesn’t my ‘in bloom’ deserve just as much love as my ‘full bloom?’ I’ve noticed that people rarely clap when you plant a seed, but they’ll parade around your harvest. [I try to always clap and give flowers to those planting seeds cause I know that shit is hard!]
This season I’m declaring that I don’t have to prove myself to anyone. I don’t have to micromanage people’s perceptions of me. I don’t have to pressure myself to do anything but be me. And I hope that’s enough. I hope that’s okay. This summer has been a summer of being. And getting acquainted with feeling like a human after feeling like a zombie on autopilot for so long. A summer to reclaim my energy after having it consistently drained and depleted. I’m trying to see my worth beyond my bank account and what I do for a living.
In so many ways I feel like I have to hurry up and prove that I’m doing something right. So many of my peers are having kids, starting families, getting engaged, getting married, buying homes, starting businesses, thriving in their work, etc. Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder what do I have going for myself. And depending on the day my answer varies between “so much” and “nothing at all.”
I don’t want to live with one foot in and one foot out anymore. It’s like I haven’t fully committed to being me. Because what comes with that? What comes with being wired the way I am? Will I be okay? Every time I surrender, I feel like I’m giving myself away to the stream and praying I make it to my destination safely.
Is it safe for me to be quiet? For me to live a little more and talk a little less? For me to be a little selfish and keep my writing to myself? For me to practice what it means and looks like to be a human that eats breakfast everyday and takes good care of herself?
I’m learning that every invitation isn’t one I have to accept. And I’ve realized my personal power is in knowing how to say no. And knowing when my being is beaming with a yes! And knowing how to stay with myself throughout all the in-betweens.
“Trusting the process” never felt safe for girls like me. Born with a sense of urgency, like time will run out on me. I have always been instructed to go get it, to use my own will, to ignore my sensitivity and view it as an inconvenience. Because survival doesn’t wait for the feelers.
I don’t want to be a woman that feels she needs to blow things up in order to ignite significant change or blow things up in an effort to try to speed up a harvest. I want to be a woman that is rooted in who she is. That doesn’t feel short on time. A woman who is in sync with the natural timing, pace, cadence, rhythm, and unfolding of her life. I want to trust that I can take my time. That I don’t have to rush to the destination. Because when I get there, then what? I don’t want to be void of my necessary lessons and souvenirs accumulated along the journey. I don’t want to arrive as a makeshift that hasn’t allowed herself to be molded. I’m learning to see the value of those things without deeming them a waste of time. Because doesn’t God love a garden? And doesn’t God use everything?
It’s safe for me to slow down and take my time with myself. It’s safe for me to stay with myself and honor myself even if it goes against logic or what ‘makes sense.’ It’s safe for me to not have it all figured out today. It’s safe for me to be unsure of what I want to do with my life — I have time for discovery and don’t have to rush it. It’s safe for me to trust my bodily cues and intuitive inklings. Maybe everything I’ve been searching for and seeking can be found in slowing down. In getting my mind and body to intimately connect vs. bicker and be at war with one another.
I will rest for the women in my family that couldn’t. I will be soft and cry my eyes out for the women in my lineage that had to be tough and hold it together. I will make a mess for the women in my family that were instructed to be well behaved. I will continue to fight for work that fulfills me and pays me well for the women in my family that solely worked for survival. I will continue to dream for those who didn’t have a chance. I will thrive in my own lane and my own authenticity for those that were told to walk in a straight line. I will continue to choose the man that loves me and treats me like royalty on behalf of the women in my lineage who were abused, mistreated, lonely, or tolerated men for their ability to provide. I’ll take care of my body on behalf of the women that found disease coexisting within their vessel and eventually instructing them to exit stage left. My existence is an offering to them.
I honor myself by existing boldly and honestly. I free myself from the shackles of shame, struggle, and suffering. I adorn myself with my essence and wear my aura as my favorite accessory. I use my pen to write myself into freedom and fulfillment. That will be my story.