Here are a few words that have been used to describe me as a child; willful, tenacious, ring-leader, bossy, strong willed, stubborn.
Not all of these words have a natural negative connotation so let me be clear; they were absolutely meant as criticism.
Any attempts to get me to conform were met with fierce opposition.
I bucked every Sunday at being forced to attend church. I refused to get out of bed, I hid from my mother who chased me with a hair brush, I squirmed and screamed as I was forcibly stuffed into tights and a lacy dress. If my parents were lucky I slept through mass; otherwise I spent my time sitting on the floor between pews poking the feet of the parishioners in front of us, or banging the song book against the wood of the pew.
My parents were relentless week after week, as was I. This was an ongoing battle throughout my entire childhood.
My willfulness did not apply exclusively to my resistance to religion. This energy carried over in other areas garnering me further unwanted attention.
The boys of my youth did not like my loud, decisive way of being. The specific group of boys I am referring to were raised strictly along the gender lines of boys will boys and girls will be ladies.
Well no one has EVER accused me of being a lady.
So once again someone who insisted I be something other than what I am attempted to (literally) beat me into submission. Submit I did not, taking the beating I did.
I come back to reflect on all of this now because motherhood is teaching me many things about myself and one of the things I recently discovered is that I am a leader.
While on so many levels I have always known this, it is also a truth I have run from.
Being a leader is something for BIG people and when I was playing small this label terrified me. As a child I was a leader, I refused to follow, refused to give in, refused to be shoved into a box of someone else’s making. I refused until the pressure became too much. My inside resolve temporarily crushed by the outside force.
Now, coming home to myself and rescuing that bad-ass little girl, I call her Scout, I am able to speak my truth: I am a leader.
I know this is true because;
I bristle at the idea of self-help books, I will not be saved by someone else’s truth. Even if my truth ends up mirroring the truth of others, and I know it will because I am not the only person experiencing my awakening, I still have to come to it on my own.
I do not belong in religion. Religion to me = Rules. My relationship with my creator has no rules. Love and connection are the language of the Universe, as long as I stay in tune with that Sacred Truth I experience spiritual alignment.
I do not belong under my mother’s control. Or anyone’s for that matter. I will not play small to fit in to boxes that would serve to suffocate. I will not willingly put on shackles and restraints to comply with familial expectations/social norms.
I do not belong in a box of anyone’s creation, I do not belong in restraints.
I release all the lies that I believed about myself.
I reclaim my truth: I AM strong-willed. I AM tenacious. I AM a leader. I AM strong willed. I AM stubborn when it counts. I AM the BOSS of me. I AM my own.
These are my truths now and I embrace them in love, not shame.
I am not small.
I am BIG. I am POWERFUL. I am a LEADER.
I am the hero of this story.