Ever wonder why you are the way you are? Why you think the way you think and do the things you do? Why you live a certain way?
From day one, I knew I didn’t want to live carefully. That I was different. That I believed in living “outside the box.”
But, as I ventured into adulthood, I found myself doing just the opposite. It was as if I was confined to the very box I was repulsed by, but that was held together by walls—I’d later realize—I’d erected myself based on values and nonsense I was taught and told (including, but not limited to):
“Why are you acting like that?!”
“Go to work!”
“Learn to keep your mouth shut!”
“Snap out of it!”
“Why do you always have to be different?!”
Things that didn’t feel right to me and were entirely against my innate beliefs, but that felt somewhat “safe” and, since they were coming from my own parents (wait, did I just say that? Please don’t get me wrong, my parents were/are wonderful, hard-working first generation Italian folks who raised me the best way they knew how to), felt critical to abide by.
After college, still needing more time to figure out who I was and what I wanted to do with my life (i.e. find my voice), I worked at various office jobs (mostly to appease my mother), struggled to fit in with crowds I had literally nothing in common with, and got into some pretty stagnant and emotionally unreciprocal relationships. I did “shut my mouth” and, as an inherent empath, it was inevitable that I would take on the role of the meek and feeble people-pleaser.
As a full-time people-pleaser, I made enough money to support myself and then-some. I got an adorable studio apartment with tons of character in a hot—yet safe—neighborhood in the heart of NYC, traveled whenever the hell I wanted to, dined out three-plus meals a day (I never skipped dessert), got weekly manis, pedis, and massages, and celebrated my lifestyle every. single. night.
But something ginormous was missing. Something that none of those things could ever take the place of. Something I could not put my finger on, but something that I knew I needed to find in this lifetime to fulfill whatever it was God had in mind when He sent my tiny baby ass from that fluffy puffy cloud and down into my loving family’s arms.
Anyway, I finally escaped that that box last October and decided to seize the opportunity to take a few steps backward, find that thing—my voice—and live out loud like I’d always daydreamed about. And here I am today, filling your inbox with boatloads of thought-provoking nonsense.
I want you to tell me—do you ever feel as if you’re living in a box? A box made up of old habits, stale beliefs, and maybe even—God forgive me—stuff your parents instilled in you with the intention of keeping you safe?
Write to me. Or comment below.
And until next time…
Namaste true to yourself. And keep asking the question why.