There She Is
Empath. Hell of a teacher. Depressed. Too old. Loving Auntie + Godmother. Too sensitive. Anxious. Funny. Underdog seeker + supporter. Out of shape. Average. Life of the party. Kind. Too much. Intuitive. Weak. Procrastinator. Recovering people pleaser. Compassionate. Strong. Smart. Beautiful. Work in progress.
These descriptors- these names I’ve called myself- can hold so much power.
Some of these words have had the power to bully me right into my bed on a sunny Saturday afternoon while I could FEEL the people having fun right outside of my apartment. Those words. Those words have convinced me that I’m not worthy of the consistent yet wild love that I want. They’ve told me I’ll never be as [cool, fit, pretty, smart] as that other person. The other words; hope lives in these words. They are the ones that have the power to lift me right out of bed on a sunny Saturday morning to smile at every stranger on my walk, encourage me to post a mirror selfie, to pay my parking ticket on time, to push harder during the last 10 seconds of a workout. They even inspire me to flirt with a handsome stranger by asking who has better eyes/dimples, him or me (it’s always me). They whisper, “Pay attention, sweet girl. Look at you! You’re breathing, healing, growing, living. YOU are here on this spinning ball of gas. YOU get to walk with others as — together — we navigate this beautifully messy human experience. Isn’t that awe-inspiring?! Pssst, so are you.”
You can tell by now (either because you know me or because you’re reading this) that I feel DEEPLY.
That has always been at the core of me. I have vivid childhood memories of being on drives home at night from anywhere that “yes, we have to take the highway.” We’d be sleepily packed into our slick forest green minivan with the sparkly finish. Whenever the sounds of ambulance sirens drowned out the soothing voices of David Allan Boucher or Delilah, I’d sit up and crank my neck trying to get a glimpse in the back of the ambulance thinking: Is there blood? Are they alone? Are they young? Are they going to die? I really hope everyone is ok. I’ve spent a lot of my life living that way: I really hope everyone is ok. Don’t ever ask me to go to a casino because it won’t be fun for you. You’ll ask me if I want a drink and I’ll respond with something like, “Tito’s soda lemon, but see that person over there in the floral sweatshirt? She’s been playing the same slot machine since we got here. Do you think she’s lonely?” My fellow Empaths will feel me when I say: absorbing other people’s energy can be freakin’ EXHAUSTING. And sometimes, the EMTs in the ambulance might just be speeding to get coffee and the woman at the casino might just enjoy gambling. We Empaths tend to be good storytellers. I DO hope everyone else is ok. Recently, though, I’ve been putting more effort into making sure I’m ok, too. Progress, baby.
I used to say that my deeply feeling nature is a blessing and a curse. I’ve since released the curse part.
I now fully celebrate this part of me. The more I learn about the world, the more this truth is revealed: my heart (with all of its Big Feelings) is the greatest gift I’ve been given. When used with airtight energetic boundaries, this gift creates beautiful things.
I’ve finally started to take credit for the beautiful moments that have happened because I am who I am.
When reflecting on the past school year, one of my fifth graders wrote: “when I’m in the classroom, I feel free. It’s just fun, you can be yourself and not be judged. You can also just be straight-up weird and you’ll fit in perfectly.” Together we created an atmosphere where everyone could be STRAIGHT-UP WEIRD and fit in perfectly. Here’s what those eloquent ten-year-old words made me think: These impressionable young people walked into my classroom each day feeling the freedom to show up exactly as they are. Maybe then, they showed up that way to their soccer team, where they noticed others’ straight-up-weirdness and helped THOSE people feel free to show up as themselves. Next thing you know, the whole damn league is scoring metaphorical BE YOURSELF goals, and the come-as-you-are cycle will continue. That right there- is my why.
Psychologist Carl Rogers’ “Unconditional Positive Regard” stays at the forefront of each interaction I have with my students.
Like most of us, it’s more natural to hold that kind of positive regard in my mind when interacting with my students (and most anyone else) than when I’m talking to myself. I’m still working to show myself the same love and compassion that I freely show to others. This used to feel like a Sisyphean task. Little by little, though, I feel myself doing it. Like Albert Camus said, “One must imagine Sisyphus happy.” I’ve been celebrating the little moments when I catch myself showing up for myself. One of those moments happened recently in a spin class with Christina Muccio at B/SPOKE Studios in Boston. I was feeling a lot of mental resistance during the beginning of the class. This time, though, instead of beating myself up, I told myself however I was showing up that day was okay. Then, the combination of a banger of a song and the way that Mooch hyped us up before a sprint shifted something inside of me, and I was locked in. During the sprint, Mooch was bopping around like the energetic fireball that she is. She came by me and said, “THERE SHE IS!” Now, I know that this phrase is in her arsenal of pump-up phrases, but maybe she noticed the shift, too. Either way, hearing those three words affirmed HELL YES, HERE I AM. In this moment, I am showing up as the best, most badass version of me.
There. She. Is. Now THOSE are words that hold some serious power. Glennon Doyle uses these same three words when she describes her third awakening in life (THE Abby moment from Untamed for my fellow Glennon super fans). She explains in body chill-inducing words, that she and Abby each had this phrase in mind at that moment. When speaking of Abby, Glennon says, “When I saw [her], I remembered my wild.”
Remembering MY wild happened when I really saw myself.
This awakening has come from diving into and making space for the activities, people, communities, places, moments that LIGHT ME UP.
I’ve spent many seasons of my life ruminating over the past and worrying about the fantasy world that is the future. That’s not where the wild is. No, that’s not where freedom is, either. Freedom lies in living here and now: living in this moment. Wild isn’t born from merely accepting where I am in life. I have found my wild by using the experiences from my past to fuel my present; one that’s filled with ridiculous grace for my human-ness. I am spending this present moment in deliberate celebration of the absolute gift that is another year.
Today, I’m celebrating myself.
Failures and successes. Joy and pain. Love and loss. Growth. Healing. Past versions. Today’s version. At 35, I’m meeting myself all over again. I’m looking at myself — A L I V E — in all of my straight-up-weirdness and saying,
There she is.
Into Big Feelings? Or maybe you prefer to dabble in smaller ones (I’m here for ALL OF ‘EM) Follow me here on Medium.
Stay wild, friends.
