Who the F Actually Are You

What does it mean to be fully expressed?

That question feels kinda big for me, in this moment.

I just journaled around that topic several pages.

I noticed I felt discomfort around being fully expressed.

I asked myself the questions.

Why did I feel uncomfortable?

When did I feel uncomfortable when it comes to expressing myself?

etc etc etc.

I found that I felt discomfort when I was looking through other people’s eyes at me.

My perception has been such that people see me a certain way and my being fully expressed would shift their view of me.

I would be coloring outside of their lines for me, outside of their expectations for me.

I would be ‘too much’ for them,

‘too loud’,

‘obnoxious’,

an attention whore of sorts.

I was basically uncomfortable with them being uncomfortable, so I would rather ME be uncomfortable so THEY – whoEVER the hell THEY is – can be comfortable.

Do you hear this blasphemy being typed out by my fingers?!?!

The bullshit,

the maddening craptastic story about how and why it’s not okay to just BE.ME?!

Because really, what I was saving myself from was not THEIR discomfort.

I was really saving myself from MY discomfort about THEIR discomfort.

This really wasn’t about them.

Even though I may *say*, I don’t want to rock the boat, I don’t want others to feel uncomfortable and have to *shift* their view, understanding, and experience of me.

Jesus Christ.

What IS life if not a continuous evolution of experience, a string of changes and shifts, a flow of whatever wants to come through in life???

I mean, I deserve a round of applause.

The smoke and mirrors,

the audacity to think that I am responsible in any way for someone else’s comfort

AND

even MORE preposterous,

that I am SAVING SOMEONE FROM DISCOMFORT by ME being uncomfortable.

Basically, the bald-faced lie that I am UNworthy of living my life COMPLETELY and ABSOLUTELY from MY viewpoint.

It was so easy, before journaling, to say that I just didn’t want others to feel like they needed to stretch their idea of me, to encounter new experiences of me…

but really,

really though,

like really,

I’m the one who was so irreparably uncomfortable with myself.

Because I was still looking at myself through everyone else’s lenses.

I was still judging myself, measuring myself, stacking myself against my assumptions of what people saw in me already,

never really taking hold of the idea, the possibility that:

1. I will NEVER know what people think of me EXACTLY. It’s not mine to know. I’m me, they’re them.

2. See #1.

I realize my sin has been that I was not outsourcing my truth, and thus, the integrity with which I live my life.

The fact is, there are no rules.

There are no standards, protocols, measures of how I’m to be who I’m meant to be.

Those things simply flow from within me…

if I let them,

if I believe in my vision of me,

if I believe in my expertise in being me.

Ya feel me?

I feel me.

Ha.

In the end, you know you.

All that’s left to do is, you do you.

You do your interpretation of you,

purely,

truly,

freely.

Your birthright is to do so.

When you do, when we do, we are living out truth.

And there is nothing ever wrong with that.

Period.

x,