cakeand i know why i got misty yesterday during "coach carter" when homie recited the marianne williamson piece below. yes, it's one of my favorite writings and i love it because it reminds me overandover again about the truth that i have all too often hidden from myself. and so i cried (and proudly let myself cry) because i have spent way too fricken long hiding/whittling, toning and playing down/minimizing/hiding/trying to "be normal". i have seriously and consciously hidden from myself and others in order to get a date/be accepted/tolerated/loved/acknowledged.
earlier this week, i sent a beloved an incredibly long email about this condition, part of which stated that i feel like a pastel version of my vibrant, radiant self. i am turquoise, fushia, gold, copper and red, not mint, eggshell or carnation. eww...i hate pastels. and yet, i've spent the last five or so years, really trying to "tone down the funk" (per my mother's initial suggestion for how to get dates with boys). well, dammit! i am a funky shutchomouth! so there.
and for those who know me relatively well and are currently thinking, "that was the toned down version? really?". yes my friends, for a significant part that you've know me, it just might have been. i've been walking around masquerading as a plain yellow cake, no frosting, no sprinkles, no m&ms or such. when the reality is i'm really a sparkling, dynamic, delicious mamajama with rich creme cheese frosting. i think working and having to find a job and "be accecpted (really, tolerated)" into "mainstream" america is part of it too, but really, i've been acting like the gap version of myself. literally. and while i do love their denim, i am really more like a funky leather one-of-a-kind designer than anything you can fall into.
and i'm not just talking about fits and kicks (although that is a significant part of this whole experience). i'm talking about myself in general. i feel like a television on mute. you can kinda figure out what's going on, but without the volume, the whole point is difficult to understand.
i could go into the psychological reasoning and blahblahblah effects of it all, but what i know is this--marianne knows what she's talking about. i don't want to hide my light underneath a bushel (no!), i'm going to let it shine. i can't be worrying about anyone else's experience of me, because that's their responsibly, not mine. i am not going to pick it up.
another beloved and i were talking about beyonce's incredible lifelong pr training and how it could possibly result in her nonexistent sense of self. and then i realized, how many of us are so closely micromanaging our own pr, that we have no idea who we are? we do wear the mask that grins and lies (and does a whole bunch of other koonery performance). when will we give ourselves permission to just be? when will we accept ourselves as all that we are without judgment or correction?
well, i am beginning now. today. in this exact moment.
i might have outgrown enormous platforms, gaylee's and wraps of fabric as clothing, but it's time for me to start expressing myself physically again. it's time for my personality and presentation to be in alignment with my spirit.
and if i end up with a wild and crazy assortment of incredible but strange friends who live and love true but don't care about earning your acceptance and if i spend all of my time loving, learning and doing what makes my heart sing without being hungry for accolades or validation, then at the end (and during), i will be one happy camper. and that my friends, is the greatest pr ever.
l. "what you think of me is none of my business" asantewaa
p.s. you know who looks good now? Kenny Rogers!! i guess you really do gotta know when to hold 'em...