I come from a long line of women who lived life on their own terms, often choosing the unconventional over the conventional. This meant following their hearts, what they truly loved, then with a quiet fierceness, just lived.
My grandmothers, great-grandmothers – my lineage – echoes bravery in times where most were not quite so brave. One left England as a widow – her only title – to start a new life, in a new land, alone with her children, settling on Plymouth Rock. She did and her legacy was great, though her first name was never recorded. She had no husband; but she had tenacity.
My grandmothers were the calm, the grounding, in the middle of swirling volatility. In the midst of chaos, they stood quietly, in a firm knowingness of who they were. They knew when to stay. They knew when to start over. And they’d do just that.
These are the women that had their feet on the ground, even while it was shifting below. They offered a safe space, a respite for others — and saw them through their wars; it was a circle around them that they could bring others into and place warm salves on aching hearts.
The women in my family have fires that brew beneath what looks like calm. They feel things intensely; they experience life with bolts of electricity. You see it in their loyalty, with family, in the depth of their unconditional love, in politics, their laughter, with dance, and in their ability to communicate. Mostly, you see it in their eyes: a determination to be who they are, even if it doesn’t meet the approval of society.
I see this fire in others, but often coupled with a fear of letting go. We’re afraid of what people will think of us. We worry that we’re not doing the right thing if we live our own path. We crumble at the thought of potentially hurting others and think it’s best to sacrifice ourselves, our happiness, so others don’t get burned.
Sometimes, we’ve lived so long doing what’s expected – in the way society teaches we must be in order to fit in – in taking care of others, putting our nose to the grindstone, that we lose sight of our dreams and interests. If we ignore the truth in our hearts, over time, we become numb. Or we just live life as a “Meh.” We’re OK, nothing is terribly wrong, there’s not muchto complain about, but the fire has gone so dim, that we just don’t feel. We don’t hear the song in our heart anymore.
This OK for some. It might even be noble, or responsible, or smart. Most people live from a place that if you are not painfully unhappy, it’s enough. So buck up. Move on. Straighten yourself out. Get on with it. Stay super busy if you have to. Go shopping. Drink lots of wine. Work 12 hour days. Leave town as often as possible. Smoke. Eat. Watch TV until 1AM. Spend all your spare time away from home. Quiet the voice that whispers “I’m still here.” And that may be perfectly OK with you. If it is – that’s fine. That’s probably how most of us live.
Look, I’ve been there. I’ve said my loyalty and promises were more important than my – in truth – unhappiness. I felt a little stuck … because I am loyal and take promises seriously. I wasn’t about to back down from being The Woman Who Keeps Her Promises, even if it compromised my happiness (and the subsequent happiness of my marriage and family). It took the other in my life to say it was enough – for both of us – that it was time to move forward – apart – and for that, I am grateful. He allowed me the freedom to reignite the strong fire that is my heritage. To be the woman I am, truly. And he gets to be who he is, too.
See, the other choice is to live life like my grandmothers. To accept all the pieces of yourself, reclaim what makes you spark, give to others your gifts; live so you feel alive, not numb. There are those who won’t understand that you have to follow your flame; but for you, you learn that not living this way is the ultimate disloyalty: being disloyal to yourself, your own True North. For those of us with this fire, not letting it glow feels like a slow death.
My grandmothers taught me it was OK to be who I am. To be different. To follow what I know to be true for me. To live my own way … even if it doesn’t look like everyone else’s way. And that’s what I’m going to do.
I just heard this sermon today and this post reminded me of it (although not "religiously"). It was about how we're so caught up in trying to be like everybody else — to have what our neighbor's have, to be a size 4 like your best friend or have the same house or as big as your sister's. We're running our own race. And it's just as if you brought an SUV into the city. It just. doesn't. fit. But if you bring it up into the suburbs, it's perfect. Same as if you brought the SmartCar into the country — it would have a hard time with the terrain and basically, pointless.
I used to be miserable when I used to compare myself with other people. Career-wise, I used to be obsessed about it, until one day I figured out that God had a different plan for me. I'm not supposed to be a size 4, I'm not supposed to be some yuppie executive on Wall Street — I'm supposed to be "me", with the gifts that God has given me. You're supposed to be YOU. Celebrate YOU. And even though it took me 40 years to figure this all out, I have never been so happy, so content and satisfied with my lot in life. My passion has become my "job" which doesn't feel like a job. I'm not a 9-5er — and those people are seemingly more "respected" because of their efforts of hanging onto the rat race.
I don't want a husband. I don't want kids. I am happy living with my best friend, my wife and living life a bit unconventionally, but the way *I* want it to be.
I used to get down on my weight. I wanted to be "thin", but it ain't happening. I'd workout 2 hrs a day with a personal trainer 5 times a week and I only lost 20 lbs. I am who I am, so I dress myself up, do my hair, paint my nails and do the best I can to feel good.
There are way too many stigmas on the unconventional ways of living or what society deems as "not good enough". It's not only good enough, it's what people wish they already had: peace of mind and freedom to be themselves.
Enjoy!
Loved your post Becky. I hear your strong , clear voice and it's making me smile and clap almost. I'm from the same lineage of strong independent women. Aren't we lucky.
Oh, Deb. This is beautiful. SO BEAUTIFUL. All I can say is: YES. Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!
It's like coming to ACCEPT that we ARE WHO WE ARE. No one is like another. We are unique. And that means, we have our own path in this life to life and follow. Comparison kills us. It hurts your soul. You think, then, that there is something inherently "wrong" with you for not being like the others. Often, people try to do both, then. Try to somehow be who they are, but still straddle that fence and be what they think they OUGHT to be. It doesn't work.
It is hard, it takes courage, but as you said, there is the ultimate freedom of just coming to accept the truth of who you really are. How you're made/wired/whatever.
I loved reading your reply. THANK YOU!
And thank you for being a voice out there. And thank you for reading my stuff. So honored. 🙂
Oh, we are lucky, Sandy! 🙂
*big smile*