There has been a theme in my life for the last few years of ‘letting go’, of a long list of things.
what people think
the need to control everything
what i want to happen in my career
how i want my relationship to be
the need to always be ‘nice’
the need to project the image of perfection (ha)
of needing to be liked
just to name a few. this theme is echoed in every aspect of my life and i have been recieving lessons at every turn. big things, such as getting married, moving across the continent and literally throwing myself into a new unknown life (leaving behind everything that is comfortable and familiar), launching into new territory with my book concepts, not taking the safe route in terms of doing what people might expect, pushing myself into new places creatively. And the slightly smaller things (but no less important), learning how to set boundaries with people, saying no when I don’t want to do something, allowing people to be upset with me, not clinging to ‘things’ for comfort.
the effect of letting go has for a time made me feel like I’ve “come out” to the world in the same way as a 1950′s housewife who has realized her life was a bit of a facade, in her housecoat and curlers who is on her front porch every morning drinking vodka and smoking. she wears a new confident smile. the neighbors pretend not to notice at first, but are noticably disturbed by her behaviour. the church lady on the corner decides to “pay her a visit” in hopes of saving her from the clutches of satan, tea cakes in hand. the world seems not to want to see her true self, don’t like her to question things. her recent lack of control a tad frightening to a world with rules. her truths like small bombs …
the truth that…
she is not in fact ‘nice’
underneath all of her make up there are moments when she could be considered ‘unattractive’
she has anger and it is powerful
she does not need to do it all for everyone else
she has a voice and is using it to question things
but what of all those other things that we liked about her?
her demure nature
her soft features
her painting the world in pretty colours
her joy in the smallest of things
her pretty self
they are all still there. and they are stronger than ever.