I don’t recognize myself lately.
Which, I suppose, is a good thing since 25 weeks ago I set out on this venture to create a whole new Charlotte. And, I think it’s working. I mean, it must be working. Because I’m a little scared. Okay, I’m a lot scared. But I’m also excited. And feeling really free.
Let me explain…as I write, I’m sitting at a window in the food court loft at Whole Foods in downtown Austin. It’s a beautiful, bright, windy day. I’m washing down a delicious turkey and basil pesto sandwich with an all natural cola. I’m feeling closer today than I did yesterday to being the woman I really want to be.
And all of that is deeply empowering.
But, in attempting to find myself, I’m apparently letting down some of the people around who say they care about me. I’m making foolish mistakes. I’m being selfish. I’m dishonoring words of wisdom from enlightened ones in the know about what’s best for me. I’ve become a stranger. A traitor. A horrible disappointment.
And all of that is profoundly painful.
Because nothing in me can attest to any of that. Nothing in me can corroborate any of those claims. And finally, finally, nothing in me feels obliged anymore to address all the fear and misunderstanding.
And that is extremely liberating.
I’m allowing myself to undergo this strange and beautiful and intimate metamorphosis. And I’m doing the best I can to be brave. And true. And I’m trying to believe in the power that exists within me to create a life that I love. Because only I have to live it.
If that is wrong, then I can no more right it than I can … … make any damned sense out of all those triangles and wack-a-doodle symbols on the laptop of the man sitting across from me! What is that??? The Da Vinci code???
Look people, I spent my first 40 years doing what I thought I was supposed to do. I made some mistakes. I burned a couple of bridges. But mainly, I made straight As and played by most of the rules. Along that way, things got bumpy and I found solace in the false courage that too much whiskey gave me. I’m not ashamed to admit it. And even through that, I continued to do pretty much what was expected of me. I did the “right” things as best I could manage. I trudged along and faked contentment while hating just about every moment of my day. I did that until I finally realized I could do something else. And for those to whom my something else feels like a let down, all I’ve got is … I’m sorry.
This is who I am becoming. And I like her. A lot.
Til next time!