Embracing My Inner Authority: A Journey of Self-Discovery

Reflecting on Childhood Dreams

When I was a little girl, I dreamed of becoming a lawyer. I wanted to attend Boston College. I can't pinpoint how these aspirations formed, but I remember being part of a young lawyers group in sixth grade. My mom eventually stopped taking me, and that was the end of that chapter.

In middle school, I played the flute. I rented it, which meant I had to return it every summer. I recall figuring out the theme song for the movie Ice Castles and writing out the notes to play it. However, after three years, I gave up. Just when I had the time to explore music, I found myself without a flute.

The Feeling of "Almost"

As I reflect on my life, I often feel like it has been an "almost." An unfinished journey. There seems to be a buildup to something significant, but it fizzled out. Now, at 54, some days I feel like I should sit quietly, while other days, I feel 27 again—ready to push forward, to not just try but to truly succeed. I want to get good at something that brings me joy and becomes a lifelong companion.

Writing, running, and learning are those companions for me. I have a solid foundation, but I wonder about the challenges ahead. What do I still need to learn? How can I avoid fizzling out and instead bubble up and effervesce?

Cresting the Wave of Emotion

I often imagine what my life would have been like if I had truly embraced my potential. The idea of "cresting the wave" came to me during a grief playlist session. I allowed myself to ride the emotions fully, reaching the peak and then coming down the other side. This experience changed me.

I used to fear that if I started crying, I would never stop. I thought deep wells of sadness would open, drowning me in sorrow. As a child, I was often scolded for crying or being upset, which made me reluctant to express my emotions. My parents would ask if I wanted something to really cry about, which confused me.

I now understand that they weren't suggesting I needed more pain; they were diminishing my feelings. Oh, how enlightening!

The Journey Back to Myself

I stopped crying, much like I stopped playing the flute. But now, I realize I can start again. I can embrace my grief, ride the wave, and then step back to dry off and engage in other activities.

I often feel like a "fizzle." Growing up in the 70s, I was led to believe that women's liberation was real, but it often felt like women were simply taking on more responsibilities. Behind the scenes, I was still expected to be a housewife. There was no encouragement for pursuits like young lawyers clubs or music. The focus was on obedience and being nice.

In my quest for acceptance, I made choices that didn't align with my true self. I started smoking cigarettes and allowed older boys to touch me, thinking that would make me feel grown-up. I even saved a piece of gum that one boy had discarded, pushing it onto a page of my journal with a heart around it.

The Cost of Obedience

It's fascinating how my obedience translated into allowing others access to my body while neglecting my own ambitions. I dissociated to be agreeable, but I was also a troublemaker. I wanted to try out for cheerleading in eighth grade, but my teachers didn't approve because I didn't behave well in class. In hindsight, I'm grateful they saved me from what could have been a humiliating experience.

The universe often sends clear messages: "You don't belong here." I wanted to prove it wrong, but I didn't know how. Following the rules only got me halfway. I didn't realize that life requires active participation to crest the wave.

Discovering My Inner Authority

Lately, I've been contemplating the concept of having a point of view and an inner authority. I lacked these because expressing them was frowned upon. I remember feeling passionate in my late teens and early twenties, but life beat that person down. Now, I think I've found her again, and I'm dusting her off.

I'm scared of this powerful version of myself. I've learned that safety often feels small. Having a voice can lead to hurt. When she knocks on my door, I feel torn between welcoming her in and hiding away.

This inner authority is crucial to my growth. I invite her back into my life because I need her.

Navigating the Liminal Space of Growth

This morning, I envisioned myself in a liminal space of growth. I picture it as being in the middle of a vast lake, having left the familiar shore for the unknown. Right now, I feel a significant shift in my life. Instead of rushing toward a breakthrough, I'm taking my time, crawling across the lake.

This approach resonates with me. I am both fast and slow. I realize I need time to process the swirling ideas around me. I want to braid these strands together to weave the fabric of my life in a way that reflects who I truly am.

Reclaiming My Identity

I have often felt mushy, yet I am not inherently that way. I liquefied to belong, losing my inner authority and point of view. I acted in ways that were agreeable, but now I want to act authentically. What does that mean for me?

We often get lost in the ways we contort ourselves to fit societal norms. I am one of those people who forgot what I stood for. I was afraid that if I asserted myself, I would be left behind. I was told I would be.

But now? I am starting to recognize my needs and what holds meaning for me. I am taking up space in my life, and having a point of view feels like a natural landmark in this vast lake of existence.

Conclusion: Finding Your Own Voice

P.S.

Interestingly, I don't like water much, so I'm curious why so many of my life metaphors involve it.

Do you have a point of view you can identify? An inner authority? How do you guide yourself? Who do you rely on?

This journey of self-discovery is ongoing, and I invite you to explore yours as well.