Find Yourself

When was the day you started laughing at jokes you didn’t find funny? When did you start nodding along to opinions you secretly disagreed with just to avoid rocking the boat?When did you start dressing to blend in, not to stand out? When did “don’t be dramatic” start sounding like a warning? Who told you your dreams were silly, your ideas pointless, your passion “too much”?

If any of that made your stomach drop or sparked an uncomfortable memory, congratulations you might have misplaced yourself, lost your spark, forgot who you were for a hot minute. I say this with certainty, because I, too, have been lost. And honestly? Saying “I’m on a journey to find myself” out loud made me cringe so hard I almost threw up in my mouth. But, yeah. It's true. Somewhere along the way, I became a cardboard cutout of someone else's expectations. And now? I’m clawing my way back.

It’s weird when you realize how many things you thought you liked were just…gap fillers. Shiny distractions. Aesthetic band-aids for a life that doesn't feel quite right. When my marriage imploded, all that superficial sparkle got chucked in a metaphorical (and sometimes literal) bin. And suddenly I realized I never really needed any of it.

I used candles and cute mugs to avoid the real work facing what was broken. Newsflash: A $60 soy candle won’t make you feel better about staying in a situation that’s crushing your soul. It just smells nice while you cry.

It’s so easy to get comfortable in your discomfort. To shrink instead of stretch. To say nothing instead of everything. Because "doing the hard thing" means disrupting the fragile peace that keeps everyone else comfy but have fun choking on your silence.

I’ve been asked, “Why do you always have to be so different?” by people I love. I’ve been accused of performing, of being dramatic, of only speaking up for attention. I’ve been told I’m “too loud,” “too sensitive,” “too much.” I’ve been harassed, disrespected, and dismissed by strangers and people I trusted and I let it slide. Too many times. Because women are trained from birth to not make a scene. To be nice. To be agreeable. To avoid being “a problem.” We’re handed an invisible rulebook full of shoulds and should-nots. And when we don’t follow it? We get branded difficult, bitchy, and emotional.

God forbid we cry or want more. God forbid we raise our voice. Men get away with emotional outbursts and it’s called passion. Women cry from frustration and we get, “Are you on your period?” No, Brad. I’m just sick of the bullshit. 

Honestly, it’s the men who show up emotionally needy. I’ve been on single dates where they decided we were destined to be and then got mad when I disagreed. Sorry, sweetheart. A first date is not a commitment, it's a free sample. You don’t love me, you love the idea of me. You’re not heartbroken, you’re just bummed your fantasy got canceled. Take a breath. Touch some grass. It’s not that deep.

Here’s what I know now: I have a fire in me. And for too long, I let other people dim it. Told myself it was better to be quiet than to burn too bright. But I’m done. I’m not shrinking anymore. I’m not for everyone and that’s a blessing, not a problem. 

If I disagree with you, you’ll know. If you cross a line, I’ll tell you. If I want something, I’ll go after it. And if you don’t like it? That’s fine. You don’t have to. But if you do like me, really like me, buckle up. Because I’m no longer just surviving. I'm enjoying the ride and the magic is in the moments between the events.