She sat alone and thought I’ve got to find a way to take a breath because I literally feel like I CANNOT breathe. No really like I CANNOT breathe. So she takes a breath and another. And another for good measure. But that tightness still sits on her chest, a brick ready to sink in and revealing what is really on the inside and her secret will be out.
But she wondered, “What secret is she really hiding?” That she was meant for this and built for this. Is that such a bad thing? Maybe someone will make fun of her or find a way to jab her from the right and the left in quips that are meant to filet. (You don’t get to do that she says in her head. But her mouth utters nothing and she shakes her head in agreement. Bullshit…speak up!!!)
Because in her experience that is usually how people strike. They don’t strike straight. What ever happened to those people in Gwendolyn Brooks poem? Did they grow up? Did they just say they strike straight? Or did they just nod and let someone bulldoze them over?
We strike straight.
I always took that to mean being real and being honest. A trait I learned as a young 17 year old girl who had a boyfriend who was just a little too controlling. My response to his final command was, “No thank you.” Okay or maybe something a little less polite. But the power of that word.
She found her no in that moment. She found her ability to take hold of her breath and not hold it for so long. She breathed. She breathed in and out steadily. So what happened? What happened is she grew up. She found her dreams and she lived in them, so she dreamed bigger. She dreamed bigger and better and instead of saying no which creates a road block. She said yes which leads to a vast opening.
An opening of insecurity wrapped in self doubt, wrapped in minimizing herself, wrapped in being small and unheard and behind the scenes. Giving her words to others to speak so she could shine through them and noble as it was, it dulls her. Dulling her words dulled her and that brick. It is back. Holding tight and sinking fast. Her words falling out of others mouths. Over and over again.
She watched her words on the page. She even liked them a little. Okay not a little a lot. But putting them out there, a quip here. A jab there. She cannot breath through that and what happens if you cannot breath? And all the feel good sappy crap runs through her mind, why fit in when you were born to stand out, but is it that simple? Hell no it is not that simple.
What if they don’t get it? Or worse they get it and they hate you for it. I’ve have seen that side of people. It is ugly and it hurts and then we are back to that breath. She CANNOT breathe. She understands the game they are playing. You are not fitting in cause you are standing out and that is a threat.
And damnit. The words of so many….
“I don’t want to and cannot afford to fit in” – Brene’ Brown
“A larger part of why I don’t want to be boastful is because I learned a long time ago that I was a little girl who had no clue what she was talking about. Being big while also being small is impossible task for anyone.” – Rachel Hollis
Yes damnit. I hear you. I hear you over and over and over and I get it. But sometimes being small is easier because it hurts less. But damnit it feels so good to be my big ol’ self. The one with the accomplishments that are NOT minimized. The one who did just do all of that and is okay if you see it, know it and hear it. Oh and even better she can breath. She breaths just fine and sometimes I am her. And other times I am not.
But I will get it. That is the optimist in me. But the pessimist exists too. She is the one with the brick. But she is me and I am her and with that….Deep breaths, no smallness, only you and only stillness. They don’t matter. You matter.
Go. Hit publish. Step into it. Be bigger than your biggest fear.
I am her. -MR