There are pieces of me I haven’t met yet. This is because I did a lot of grown up things before I fully knew myself. At almost thirty, I am still discovering my true sense of style. My sense of humor. My softness. My hardness. There is so much to me that I never bothered to develop or give thought to, mostly because I figured I had the time. I had no idea that I would take a sharp turn into motherhood before I fully developed my other passions.
In some ways, I feel watered down. A different version of the woman I would have been. Sometimes I feel trapped in very specific roles. Wife. Mother. Homemaker. Roles that are different from the roles that I saw for myself: Advocate. Creative. Liberated.
As time moves forward, I have started to see glimpses of her. The other me. Our lives run parallel in alternate realms and sometimes I can get a brief sense of how to join the two. I have seen ways in which the me I became can join with the me I envisioned. But as quickly as the feeling of “yes! here she is!” arises, the feeling is gone just as fast.
A few months ago I started to truly feel connected to myself in a much deeper way. I was writing more, stuff was pouring out. I was finding myself drawn closer to the things that made me feel more alive, closer to myself, closer to those around me. And then one day I woke up and found the feeling evaded me completely. I was at square one again.”Who am I? Who do I want to be? Who can I become?” were questions rattling around in my head and soul. I thought I had found the loose thread, the one that if I pulled it, the drapery would unravel revealing a beautiful truth never before seen. I thought I was holding the thread tightly. But suddenly it felt as though it slipped right through my fingers, leaving me scrambling through my mind, picking through the tassels frantically and without proper care.
If you want to find yourself, you have to be patient. You can not give up on the days that you feel like the bottom of the platform fell out from underneath you. Kick your legs and tread the water. Flap your arms until they become wings. Don’t turn your back and shy away into the cave of comfort. There is little growth there… She is not hiding in there. Alternatively, if you want to find yourself, you have to give yourself permission to be the person you want to be.
Rather than viewing these two women as separate entities who I had to find a way to melt together, maybe I could just stop that, and give myself permission to be every version of myself that I want to be. There is a me I’m not being, this is true. She is flightless because she limits herself unnecessarily. Today that ends. Who’s with me?