Being true to yourself is as close as your fingertip

I have been thinking a lot lately about how very unique we all are. I have veered so far from the child I once was yet the core of my very being remains the same. The mission as we get older, is  to hold on to that core and grow at the same time, just like your fingerprints. I knew who I honestly was at a very young age, but didn’t recognize it, but as I got older society, family and my own personal stigma pushed me further from myself. We start to compartmentalize parts of ourselves to fit particular moments or people. We become reserved and proper in a crowd or drunk with certain friends because that’s what’s expected. What we forget is to tap in to our true selves from time to time to be sure it all lines up.

You can be a chameleon, but even the chameleon is a lone animal blending in to hide from it’s predators. Sometimes we blend in so well, we forget what we truly look like. Who we truly are. Each of us has our own unique DNA and fingerprints. It is proof positive that there is no one else like you, anywhere. The funny thing is that we tend to be our own worst critics, citing our faults as reason why we are not good enough to be who we want to be. Currently, I am the “Coward.” I label myself and fall into this camouflage so as to not deal with my current situation. I pull the “mommy” camo, the “wifey” camo, and the “way too busy woman on the go” camo over myself so no one can see the person I’m hiding. Parts of her are starting to shine through, and it gets harder to hide her because the pull to honor thyself gets stronger the closer you get.

I find that wearing so many layers becomes tiresome. That once you start to feel that shine, it’s hard to let go of. Removing who you are is as difficult as removing  your fingerprints from your fingers. It’s nearly impossible or painful as hell. Recently I have aligned myself closer to who I really am, confessing more of my lust towards women and standing up for myself. No one told me how good it feels. Or I just never could listen over the din of my own self depreciation.

My mother in law asked if I’d like to have a birthday party at her house and I said yes. I think it will be my turning point in some ways. I have invited a lesbian couple, whom I’ve adored from afar. I am making it a point to keep this party and who I invite, very much in line with who I am. Yes, I am artsy. Yes, I like hippie type stuff from time to time. Yes, my friends may have strangely colored hair or might be so damn granola you cant stand it, but they are my friends. I’m no longer listening to racist rants by anyone, even if it means you you might get pissed at me. I’m gonna yell at the kid for hitting the dog, even if it’s not my kid. I’m gonna stick up for the little guy and I’m gonna love without judgement. What’s so wrong with that? I can be naive if I want to but I damn good judge of character, so don’t lie to me and pretend you care, cause I can see through it.

I will no longer be the passive bystander in my life and watch as other people try to scrub my prints away, nor will I do their handiwork for them. In high school I had a classmate say something that has stayed with me like nothing else ever has. She said, “I admire you because you are who you are and you never changed it in order to fit in or please any one.” It struck a chord with me. Now, as we all know, as a teenager, you do want to fit in and I was no different, but I cared less about the need to go with the crowd, I just wanted them to like me. So I’m channeling my younger inner self now. She’s on her way back.

I’m hoping she gets here for my birthday party, we’ve got so much to catch up on.


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  1. I’m actually double- or triple-liking this; they just only let me hit the button once.

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