A girlfriend of mine recently said something that gave me pause.
Perhaps I hadn’t yet found a man worthy of me.
Worthy of me?
What a concept! It seems so basic.
Yet I realized the truth of it as soon as she said it. That I’ve actually had it backwards all my life.
I’ve been trying to prove to men that I’m worthy of them.
I’ve worked so hard to show them that I’m good, kind, smart, and capable.
And even more, that I’m not too needy, too emotional, or lord help me, too dependent! For fear they would run in the opposite direction.
Ugh. Seriously?! Wtf is up with that?
Clarity comes in interesting ways.
The other day I was listening to one of my favorite Life Coaches, Nancy Levin, on Hay House Radio when one of her callers said something that triggered an ah-ha moment for me. And helped me uncover a life-long pattern.
The woman was describing an unkind comment made by a dance teacher she’d had when she was young. It was a thoughtless comment that caused the caller to have doubts about herself and her body image for many years to come.
As the woman told her story I suddenly remembered an incident from my own childhood.
It was a comment made by my grade 4 teacher that ended up having a profound effect on me as well.
You’d think I’d be incredibly happy while accomplishing one of my life-long dreams. Well sure, I was happy. But I was also blindsided at the same time by some pretty deep feelings of self-doubt.
Dreams don’t always show up quite the way we imagine.
The journey to my dream started twenty plus years ago when I read a book called Do What You Are: Discover the Perfect Career for You Through the Secrets of Personality Type by Barbara Barron and Paul D. Tieger.
Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am by the joy I’ve gotten from blogging.
I started not long ago in response to a challenge from a coaching friend of mine. I happened to mention to her in passing that I’d been playing with the idea of blogging for years. The next thing I knew, in classic coaching style, she was holding me accountable for posting my very first blog that same week.
I was terrified at first. But up for the challenge. Because let’s get real, I knew deep down inside of me there was a writer dying to get out.
When I was growing up my mother often said to me: just be yourself.
But did she really mean it? And why, after so many years, is it still so damn hard to do?
I have zero doubts my parents loved me. Yet sometimes their love felt conditional.
Just be yourself (as long as it’s the version we like).
I’ve never been one for making New Year’s resolutions. Somehow they’ve always felt forced and hollow. With no real joy attached.
So last week, when a friend sent me a New Year’s Eve meditation I was momentarily skeptical. This better not be about resolutions, I grumbled to myself.
But I was pleasantly surprised.
The goal of the meditation was to come up with a word that would guide me through the new year.
Yes! A word. I loved this idea.
Why is it that some weeks feel so darn hard compared to others? Everything can be rolling along just fine and then…bam! You feel like a mack truck hit you.
This has definitely been one of those weeks for me.
One minute I felt excited and inspired. The next, all bent out of shape.
Strangely enough it all started during an upbeat coaching group I participate in weekly.
We were challenged to choose a long-term goal, and adopt a series of daily, radical steps that would move us closer to it. The idea being that instead of just fantasizing about a dream, we would take actual steps towards it.
Sign me up. As a Life Coach I love this sort of thing.