So, I’m ready to get back to sweating the “small stuff” again. I think I am the pettiest creature ever created. The smallest of things get to me. I am still not sure how this came to be. My eyes sell me out. One look at you and you’ll know you done got on my last nerve. Even under these masks. Anyway ..
In a world where everyone strives to be discernible, I struggle with wanting to stay invisible. I am the work behind the scenes type of person. I’ll help you but don’t mention my name. Leave me out of the accolades.
Contrary to what most of my people know of me, I have always liked my name to be mentioned last.
Believe me, this is not a way of self-deprecating, it’s more of a coping mechanism. Less is more. Less information, less people to disappoint. I win. Or so I think.
This could work against me at some point you say. There’s someone who’s willing to jump ropes and take credit for my work. They’ll be out there and use their name because (I) didn’t want to be out there. They win.
Do they though đ¤
Growing up, we were raised to believe that to be seen was unseemly, that calling attention to yourself was inappropriate, that staying small and quiet and undemanding was the path to being loved and accepted.
But how is the world made better by me being unseen and unheard? Choosing to stay invisible is easier. It’s a quick solution to not wanting to be objectified. Criticized. Unloved. Unheard.
This year, I’m purposely granting myself permission to speak. I may not benefit but my child and the next generation will.
Am I going to be perfect in all this? Ofcourse not but I’ll be liberated.
The purpose is to challenge and insist. To rock the boat. To speak my mind and wade through the shame that comes along with snide comments. The goal is to have tough conversations and not waiting for the time to be convenient
There is room for everyone to shine. This season, I’m everyone.
A caterpillar does not become a butterfly until she is ready.
Be seen.
Love, P.