I spend much more time than you’d probably imagine in battle with the not-so-fabulous voices in my head.
Not in a full on “that wasn’t me, that was Patricia” type way. Just your typical (although given my history it’s quite possible it’s less typical than I think) anxious depressive self sabotaging inner critic voices.
The kind of voices that take comments like “overbearing” and “different” and reverberate them around my skull through a megaphone.
I struggle with my too-muchness. But it’s not something I can change.
Except for the times I have changed it. The times when I’ve listened to the people around me when they’ve told me in subtle, not so subtle and sometimes downright awful ways that the toned down version of me is the only one that’s tolerable, let alone loveable.
Year after year, relationship after relationship, job after job. I’ve tried to fit in, thought I was pulling it off, and promptly had any illusions of being an appropriate amount of anything unceremoniously yanked out from under me. Sometimes because my own brain would fight against it until I spiralled down towards complete system failure. Sometimes it was a boyfriend pushing me away, telling me I’m too much. Sometimes it’d be a boss, reprimanding me for being too quiet or too loud. Always “too” something.
So I’d try to be less.
But someone like me trying to be less is like trying to put a butterfly back inside its cocoon. You could do it. If you pull off its wings, fold its body in half, and try to bend it at just the right angle. It can be done, but it’s going to leave you with a mangled pile of goo. It’s not pretty and it’s not helping anyone.
So I’d run away. From school, jobs, boyfriends, life – whatever it was, and learn to be me again. I’d stop trying to be less. I’d sparkle. In fact I’d sparkle so much I’d be irresistible to someone new. And here we go again!
I’m 28. I’ve been in this cycle for as long as I can remember. I don’t want to do it anymore. I just want to exist in my fabulousness without fear of upsetting the delicate sensibilities of every inferior – …I mean less cool I MEAN “DIFFERENT” – person I come in contact with.
I know that my greatness, my gifts and my ability to bring joy and healing to creatures of all kinds will always flow in accordance to how much of myself I’m willing to embody. Even if myself is too loud, too sexual, too needy, too naked, too outrageous, too sad, too everything! Of course the greatest gifts come with the greatest challenges.
I wish I’d come to so many realisations so much earlier in my life. Yet, here we are! All in perfect timing I’m sure. I have fought like hell to be here, and I will continue battling the naysaying echoes of misaligned BORING INCAPABLE WANKERS (ahem… people) gone by in pursuit of being the exact amount of whatever I damn well please for a long, long time to come.
So no, I will not put some clothes on. I will not make decisions based on what others are capable of perceiving. I will always show up as if every day is another episode of The Harmony Show.
And you will love it.