Monday, October 13, 2014

On Empowerment and Pride

Do you ever get a song lodged so deeply in your brain that it becomes a theme song for your daily happenings?  Secrets by Mary Lambert has been that song for me lately; only with my own words mixing with hers (not because I think I have any sort of gift as a song-writer, but because this is just what my brain does).



I find myself singing to myself and out loud:

I have obsessive compulsive disorder, my shit is all in order.
I’m overweight, I’m usually late.
I‘ve got way too much to say.
I rock mom jeans, fake earrings.
I write about my feelings.
My family’s not dysfunctional, we have a lot of fun hanging together…

I can’t think straight, I’m inane.
Sometimes I cry a whole day.
I care a lot or sometimes not, and never know when to stop.
I’m passive-aggressive, but that’s better than aggressive.
I’m anxious, always bored. 
I don’t like sports or going outdoors.”

Of course you have to belt the pre-chorus and chorus (which my brain apparently likes as is).

“They tell us from the time we’re young, to hide the things that we don’t like about ourselves,
inside ourselves.
I know I’m not the only one who spent so long attempting to be someone else.
Well I’m over it.
I DON’T CARE IF THE WORLD KNOWS WHAT MY SECRETS ARE (SECRETS ARE).
I DON’T CARE IF THE WORLD KNOWS WHAT MY SECRETS ARE (SECRETS ARE).
SO-O-O-O-O-O-O WHAT?  SO-O-O-O-O-O-O WHAT?  SO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O WHAT.”


I love this trend that of empowerment that is happening right now.  This movement of enabling women to embrace their bodies, embrace their secrets, embrace their differences, and embrace their flaws.  I love that young men and women are fighting against rape-culture, fighting against gender stereotypes, fighting against gender/orientation/race discrimination, fighting against unfair rules, both spoken and unspoken, fighting against the stigma of mental illness.

I love that people are speaking their own truths into the world, pouring kindness into the lives of others, sharing secrets with the world to help others embrace their own.

I do not own the rights to this image.
I am inspired by this flood of pride.  This pouring out of embracing one’s self and shedding shame.
Because none of us are perfect.  I am not perfect, yet I am proud of who I am.  I am not who people want me to be – but those who matter let me be who I am.  Without reminders, I am aware of my flaws.  And I am learning to embrace them.  I am not ashamed of my struggles with depression and anxiety.  I am proud that I turn away from the people who pour unnecessary negative energy into my life.  I am not ashamed to let my child be himself or to find humor in his innocence.  I will never be ashamed to stand up for my family; nor will I ever apologize for protecting them.

I do not own the rights to this image.

I am proud of my ability to find comedy in almost anything, and that I am fluent in the language of sarcasm.  I am proud that my parents taught me to be kind and courteous.  I am proud to be a loyal-to-a-fault and protective friend, wife, sister, daughter, mother, aunt, niece, etc.

I will not feel shame for my journey; not one second of it.                  

Our stories write the book of our lives.  There are ugly chapters in every book.  But even in the ugliness, you can find beauty; although sometimes that beauty is helping someone else just by simply finding the courage to share your hurt.

Unfortunately there will be times when people with small minds and cruel hearts criticize those of us who have the courage to share our secrets, share our journeys.  There is power in ignoring the hate, in not letting someone else’s words trample through your mind with muddy boots.

I do not own the rights to this image.

My gratitude pours out to the people who continually pour positivity, love, and kindness into my life.

We all have a story to tell.  And each story is worth telling.  There is healing in telling, healing in sharing, healing in helping someone else know they are not alone.  Oftentimes I don’t know the depths and truths of my heart until I read the words that have poured out of my fingertips.

I do not own the rights to this image.
Tell your secrets.  Love yourself.  Thank you for keeping me In Good Company.





Like this post?  Try these:
Perspective
Second Chance
Power Over Choice

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