I struggle with speaking aloud. I feel a lot. And articulating those feelings in words that adequately
express the breadth and depth of my emotions rarely comes out right. I’ve been called a processor,
and I’m quiet much of the time because I am processing, attempting to translate the abstract into
tangible. Searching for a way to say what I feel. Never quite finding the right expression. Never quite
sure if my translation is correct. Or comprehensive. Or relatable. And because I fear misunderstanding,
and maybe even of being too much, I edit my words. I make them simpler and what I believe is
acceptable. I give you me, but not all of me.
This last year I’ve worked to disallow the control trauma has had over me. The restriction it’s had on my
voice. Holding back is no longer serving me. I want to be authentic: not in appearance only, but wholly.
The woman who stands in her power and speaks her truth fearlessly. But I’m not without fear. I’m
terrified. So, like entering a cold pool, I began with dipping my toes. And when that became comfortable,
I moved a little deeper. Just a little. Just a little more. And though I’ve made progress over this last year,
I’m only about shin-deep. I’ve drawn The Fool and The Sacred Fool oracle card enough times to
recognize that this slow motion isn’t cutting it. It’s time to let go. To jump in. To be ALL IN.
So I’m jumping. This is imperfect me. Me without edits. Me, with fears that don’t restrict. Me, with yellow
hair. Me, with braces on my teeth. Me, with a round belly. Me, who is strong. Me, who can cry. Me, with
a wounded heart. Me, who loves fully anyway.
This blog has been titled, “I’m Just Me” since I started it way back in 2011. It’s based on a lyric from The
Fire Theft song “Sinatra” which spoke to my heart- I’m not the labels you assign, I’m just me. For years
this has been my mantra. But today I realize it’s not quite right. Because today I take umbridge with the
word “just.” There is no qualifier to who I am.
I AM ME.
And it is enough.
