It’s time to take up the room. Be bold.
Over the years I’ve shed. I’ve molted like a snake. I grew new skin and thoughts. I learned the pains of growth when people were removed from my life, that no longer supported the melting of old skin and the regrowth of the new.
This year my resolution was unknown. But I always make one with myself, promising to grow internally in the ways I have always hoped to be.
And so, pondering over this for a couple of weeks, this year I decided to be loud. I decided to visible and unashamedly take up space and be bold about it.
How daring.
Yes, I’ve always been quiet. When younger, people mistook me for shy; when my mouth was just still, and my thoughts...vehement; reserved about sharing my emotions with words.
Last year, I found the edge of my voice, the beginning, end, and fullness of it; settled into it. (Even if it was just acknowledging my voice inside my head.) The year before, I wanted to just have fun for the sake of having fun, with no rhyme or reason.
So this year, being loud sounds fitting. I feel it taking shape, creating a mold around me, hugging my curves and crannies. Being loud will suit me, I think, more than I can imagine.
* * *
Story time. Last month, I got a tattoo. All the artists in the shop seemed like family, so there was a natural flow of conversation, jokes moving around the room. I would chime in a bit and give a laugh. But then I said to my tattoo artist, "You're saying everything I’m thinking." Because she really was.
She simply said what was on her mind and it was refreshing. So then she responded with, “Say them [your thoughts] aloud! You should try it sometime. It’s very freeing.”
It's freeing.
It sort of stuck with me, because I felt like although we were joking around, it was the best yet the most simplistic advice.
Just. Say. It.
But ya know, anxiety is crippling.
I’m anxious and nervous, I’m worried. I keep a calm demeanor but on the inside, I’m bubbling. Not always. But sometimes. Times where I shouldn’t, where there’s no reason to be.
But, this year, I really don't want to be this way.
So, I'm deciding, I've decided I wouldn’t.
I’m tired of this part of me controlling my life. I’m inside this body and it’s my nervous system, so I’m telling it to stop. Even if that means pretending to be someone else.
In my late teens and early twenties, people asked me how I was so confident. Well, at first I wasn't even, I pretended to be confident. I told them confidence was something I didn’t have and pretended to hold, and that I eventually started to believe I actually had it, maybe even intuitively.
The mind is funny that way, and energy doesn't know what's real. So, I showed up as the person I wanted to be, even when I didn’t think that was who I actually was. Over time my body took it for its own. "Oh, we're confident now."
So now, I decide to do the same. And...YES. Being an adult is HARD. It is not all the fun it’s cracked up to be.
And I MUST mention that I wouldn’t have this perspective if I didn’t work on mental health every freaking day, if I didn’t have the emotional support of my parents and partner, the emotional support of friends.
Connection and emotional support are vital parts to being able to touch that space inside myself. Inner work looks different to everyone. Having a therapist, practicing meditation, creating a specific routine, there so many methods are out there for you to find, to touch that space.
And so, I realized that, if I so long for this girl (woman, me, myself) to materialize into someone I’ve always wanted to be...I have to play the game. What would this fearless, loud, takes-up-space woman do? Well, for one, she wouldn’t back out of her PAP appointment because she’s afraid to drive 30 minutes to get there. She wouldn’t be afraid to ask for what she needs. She wouldn’t be worried about working from a cafe instead of her desk at home.
She’s brave, and large about life. She doesn’t have anxiety, she has concerns, but she knows that whatever is standing in her way won't completely stop her from where she is going.
She has a voice and she uses it. I can’t be that (^) by thinking in self-pity and all the things I can’t do because of my anxiety.
So I decided to pretend to be her.
I’ll channel, Hakeemah, when Aziza is biting her cuticles. I’ll ask Hakeemah, when Aziza is zoning out, overthinking about something that happened two weeks ago, what to do next. I think that I most realized what slips this anxiety into my veins is my lack of sharing my truth because I mute my voice. I formed my voice fully in my head.
But Hakeemah can speak. I can speak. And, be loud about it.
Not another person, not a letter, not a text, just my sound. So this year and on, I'll say things that are on my mind because they’re there. I'll take up space even though sound is new to me.
* * *
I hope this year you are loud and channel the part of you that can be there, for the quiet parts of you, for the anxious parts of you, for the more timid parts of you. She's in there, even if you have to call her a different name, just to feel you are relying on a part of you that hasn't ignited yet.
She's there. You're here and you got this.
Until next time,
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