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The price I pay for not being true to myself is the highest price to pay of all. At a certain point I just got sick of being who I wasn’t. Watering myself down, striving for the sake of striving, playing small, walking others’ paths, and generally feeling that my true self, interests, opinions, work style, life style, everything style, wasn’t acceptable, was too much, disconcerting, dangerous, unnerving, or everyone’s favorite: c r a z y.
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Of course this bled into my romantic relationships. Bottom line I thought “I can’t be myself in this relaysh’ - if I do everything will fall apart (or more likely, explode).” I wasn’t wrong, as the person I had sold my partners was a heavily pruned version of me. At my lowest I had abandoned most self care and ALL of my spiritual practices. My worst nightmare was having my ex-BF walk in while I was meditating or performing a ritual - he HATED that kind of thing, so best to just not, right? I kept my opinions to myself, my voice got a little quieter everyday, I became “a mumbler” as a friend put it. My sister, a dentist, looked into my mouth and noted several cracks in my teeth - a sign of intense pressure from grinding.
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It took some years to reach rock bottom with that, prune my self into oblivion. But then something beautiful happened - I got fed up. Twisting myself into a pretzel to suit others was no longer an option and in fact I had developed a kind of allergy to it. Somewhere in me there was a little, pure and potent piece of Self still in tact. I started to become uncontrollably myself. It did not go over well. All the weak points in my relationship were revealed at once and the old BF was quickly dispatched. Thank goodness.
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I took some time off to preen instead of prune. Taking radical responsibility for my self and experience wasn’t pretty and harrowing at best. I remember wanting to puke all day long after my first yoga class in 5 years. That little, pure, potent piece of Self kept me going back. I relentlessly woke at dawn to make the long drive to volunteer at a horse farm before my dinner shift started at the restaurant. I needed to be around those large, dangerous, and wise creatures to reset me, keep me straight, teach me how to lead with love, and most importantly: to let me know my regular bullshit would not be tolerated.
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2 years later I felt like I was “ready to get back out there.” This time I’d be showing up with a much deeper sense of self, able to kindly and gracefully refuse what wasn’t for me. Little did I realize I was fast-tracking myself to meet a soul match - where the more we are ourselves the stronger our relationship gets.
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I no longer hide my meditation practice, neither of us punish the other for being honest, my fiancé doesn’t really understand how my altars work but thinks they’re beautiful and that I should share them. Essential parts of ourselves that make us unique are not viewed as a threat but are celebrated. Everybody says “just be yourself” as if simple means easy. Being yourself is usually the scariest thing to do, and takes some time - a lifetime. While I journey back to myself I’m reminded to see whatever resistance I encounter as a sign of growth, and mark my progress by the small liberations I experience along the way.
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Making your way back to Self can be lonely, not everyone makes it without support, many give up before they see their “golden buddha hidden beneath the mud”. If you’re on this path, or if you think you might need an ally to get started DM me and let’s get to it-