I have always wanted to be liked. And growing up, it seemed like the harder I tried to fit, the less successful I was at it.
It is a part of the hardwired human condition to want to belong, to be part of a group. Sometimes it is a deeper instinct – if you are allowed to be near the campfire and share the caribou, you survive to live another day.
But I couldn’t fit for different reasons…too different, too artistic, too wierd, wanted it too much, or it triggered the envy of others. By the time I was on my own, I had learned only too well that being different hurt too much. So I learned to keep my desires throttled down to 10mph, and became an envious low achiever with an unerring skill for self-sabotage.
I wanted someone who would listen to my sad stories, but fortunately that someone kicked me in the butt instead. She was a blunt, take no prisoner teacher who made me face my shit and made me understand it was my own work to do. Now I am learning to live in peace with the real me, and finding my friends in people who are dedicated to doing this ‘heavy lifting’ in their own lives.
For my birthday I have given myself permission to be my own quirky self.
To live with with my weaknesses,
to develop and grow,
to be open, vulnerable,
to cry, to be confused.
To say I don’t know.
To drop my guard, the role, the facade.
To choose a different road.
To play and be playful.
To be curious,
to be happy with what interests me.
To muscle test a question to hear my body’s inner wisdom.
To hear the deeper messages in a book, a poem, a dream.
To pause and take a breath so I can see something for what it is.
To respond from the original moment.
To be less afraid of being alone.
To have the experience first-hand.
To have failures that teach me.
To be imperfect.
To be open to the wonder.
To not fit in.
To have it be less important every year.
To repeat as often as needed.
This is not a birthday wish. It is the reminder of the direction I want to’true’ myself to every day.