I’ve changed.
I used to try and fit in, and stand out at the same time. I learnt how to dress, talk and work in a way that let me do them both.
I adapted the way I presented myself based on who I was meeting and what I wanted them to think about me. I even presented myself online in the way that I wanted people to see me, so they respected me, and even envied me.
I created an identity for myself that made most people wish they could be me. Even me.
Meanwhile, each time I was confronted by my own darkness, my failures, my inability to live up to the standard I’d created for myself, I crumbled. I found it impossible to accept my own failings. I fell apart each time I found out that I wasn’t superhuman, that I wasn’t perfect, that I couldn’t be the me I wanted everyone to believe I was. Especially me.
I was breaking, from the inside out. So I broke up.
I broke up with myself. I broke up with the me that was making my life so difficult. I told her I wanted to be loved for who I am, not who I want to be. I told her I was perfect the way I was, right here right now, in this moment. I told her, I didn’t want to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. I didn’t even want to pretend to only be a fraction of the full me.
I told her I wanted real, unconditional love. I told her I didn’t want to be in this relationship anymore, trying to live up to her standards, trying to be worthy of her love.
I told her, I just couldn’t anymore.
Every breakup leaves its impression on you, you need to get over it and eat a bunch of sugar to counter the bitterness and even cry sometimes just to get rid of the residue of the person you had shaped so much of your life around.
It took me 10 months to get over her.
I stopped wearing makeup. I stopped wearing heels. I stopped going out and putting on a smile and talking about stuff I didn’t care about. And I stopped doing things I didn’t care about. I even stopped caring about a lot of the things I was doing. I stopped caring if my house was perfect, or if I had washed my hair, or if my laundry was folded. I decided these things mattered to her, and not to me.
I didn't stop because I was sad. I stopped because I was tired.
I spent a lot of time doing nothing. Because when you stop doing the things you don’t care about, you find a lot more time. And I didn’t fill it with anything but the things I actually felt like doing. The things I really, really, really felt like doing.
Like spending time with friends that really got me. Like painting. Like reading. And writing. Like helping friends that needed some strong advice and a hand to help them back up onto their horse.
I even thought I needed a hand to help me back up onto my own horse — and after brief brushes with many hands, I finally found the strong, reliable one I was looking for.
It was my own — but it had changed.
Like a virgin. I got to know it all over again, like I had never known it before. There was no more veneer, no more polish, nothing slippery and shiny that uses your own reflection to avoid being truly seen.
I saw through and through me for the first time, and I had changed.
I had dropped all the protection that kept everyone out. I had let go of the layers of hard, shiny, sugary coating and finally got to the warm, melty chocolate inside.
And it wasn’t sweet. It was bitter. It was rich. It was trustworthy. It was comfortable.
It was my heart. And it felt like I had finally come home. After traveling all around the world all my life, I had found what I was looking for right inside me.
I found out what it means to be one with yourself. There was no other person in this home, there was no negotiating about who gets to have her way this time. There was no compromise.
There was only perfect clarity, complete alignment, total honesty. And unconditional love.
And guess what else I found out about myself?
I’m an artist. I had forgotten that while trying to be someone else.
I’m a lover and a believer. I had forgotten that too, while I was trying to keep up.
I’m a great friend and listener. I needed some reminding about that.
And I’m a fantastic coach. I never knew that about myself before.
I have a lifetime of experience creating identities to fit in and stand out at the same time.
I have a lifetime of experience trying to figure out why I’m here.
I have a lifetime of experience stripping down to the core of what really matters to me.
And I’ve tried every creative way possible to get there.
I’ve changed. Over and over again until I’ve finally stripped myself down to my raw, vulnerable skin.
It feels good to be home in your own skin. So good, that I want everyone to know what it feels like.
I’m an artist that follows her passion — and wants to help you find and keep yours. All of you. Nothing else is so worthwhile.
Live with Passion — without quitting your job
10-week workshop series
Includes:
10 weeks of workshops
+ bonus closing workshop in week 11
+ 2 one-on-one coaching sessions
+ email support
Maximum group size: 15