I just want him to stay with me until I can be sure he won’t turn into Norman Nothing.

I want to be sure he’ll know when he’s chickening out on himself. I want him to get to know exactly the special thing he is or else he won’t notice it when it starts to go.

I want him to stay awake and know who the phonies are, I want him to know how to holler and put up an argument, I want a little guts to show before I can let him go.

I want to be sure he sees all the wild possibilities. I want him to know it’s worth all the trouble just to give the world a little goosing when you get the chance.

And I want him to know the subtle, sneaky, important reason why he was born a human being and not a chair.

- A Thousand Clowns, Murray trying to explain why he hasn’t put his nephew in school yet

We live in an adult-centered, anti-child world where mistreatment of children is considered, not just appropriate, but preferred.

At best, kids are considered loud, messy and exhausting.

At worst, they are considered inherently “bad” and in need of training, which is usually doled out in the form of mental, emotional or physical abuse.

It’s true that children are the only group that is still boldly and legally discriminated against. They are the only people who are legally allowed to be hit, stolen from or held against their will. There is even a movement to ban the “brats” from public places based on nothing but their age.

Think about any of these sentiments said about a particular race and you’ll see my point. It is a very anti-child society we live within.

Of course, all of this instills in children a belief that they are less than, broken or bad. And unless they heal that belief, because children are the only oppressed group who will outgrow their oppression, it’s a belief they will continue to carry into their unoppressed adult life and inform every choice they make, including the treatment of the next generation.

So, we are essentially creating an entire culture of broken, hurting human beings for generations to come.

And I keep hearing so many parents complain about this and the so-called “brat bans”.

We are all appalled and offended when someone speaks condescendingly, assumes a child’s guilt or otherwise passes judgment on them based on their size.

But how many are doing anything about it?

Guess what?

If you want the anti-child treatment to change you’ve got to come out of your hiding places and start talking about.

Not just on Facebook.

Not just on your blog.

You need to start speaking up. At family reunions. At the grocery store. With your best friend. With strangers at the park.

You need to grow some cahones and start creating real awareness by speaking your Truth.

You need to live with Integrity.

Last week I got the opportunity to ask an older gentleman to drop some anti-semetic remarks he was making in front of us.

This was a strong, opinionated man who never backs down. He’s the kind of man that constantly makes racist, classist or sexist remarks and is used to winning arguments. The kind of man no one even bothers arguing with anymore.

I knew all of this going in. I’ve seen how people will sit uncomfortably and listen as he makes these remarks and not say a word, because they don’t feel it’ll help. They all looked pained as they shrug their shoulders and ask “What can I do?”

But I live by my own integrity.

And according to my integrity, all people should be treated with honor and respect and compassion. Even this man who was making anti-semetic remarks.

So with respect for him, I clearly stated that I was uncomfortable with his remarks, explained why and stated that I would appreciate them not happening in front of us.

Because I spoke with respect, not anger or fear, he did what no one had ever seen him do before.

He apologized and said he hadn’t looked at it that way.

We then went on to have a nice conversation for several more hours.

The One Rule To Speaking Your Truth

It doesn’t work when you speak from a place of anger or fear.

It doesn’t work when you fight or demand or criticize.

People shut down when they hear your anger, or feel attacked.

But people hear Truth.

Truth is not angry. It’s not fear-based. It’s not judgmental.

It’s just Truth.

And real Truth comes from a place of love. It comes with compassion and acceptance and gentleness. It doesn’t back down or hide.

And it speaks volumes louder than anger.

If we want to change these anti-child views…if we want to promote respect and love, compassion and kindness…we get to speak out while we set an example of what respect, love, compassion and kindness look like.

We get to live our Integrity out loud.

(And really, if you’re speaking with anger, are you really living your integrity?)

Change doesn’t happen by complaining about it.

Keep this in mind: the reason these anti-child (or racist or sexist or any-ist) sentiments make you uncomfortable is because you’re not living according to your own beliefs, your own integrity, when you don’t speak your Truth.

You’re sacrificing your beliefs to “keep the peace” (what peace?). And that’s uncomfortable!

To live with integrity means to take your authenticity and your Truth out of its box and into the world.

What do you know as Truth? What is holding you back from speaking your Truth with compassion and respect for everyone involved?

Because if you see the abuse and hate occurring towards children – or anyone else – and you do nothing about it…or you increase it with abuse and hatred of your own, whose really to blame here?

And it all come to total realization today. Really, it all hit me upside the head until it sunk in.

With two emotional days showing all over my face and no makeup, I made a video about one intense, transformational, connect-the-dots kind of days….one of those days where life wraps up all the answers you’ve been seeking (in more areas than one, since its all ultimately connected anyway), ties it up with a nice, magical bow and sets it in your lap.

And I did with it the best I could; I tried to convey what really can’t be conveyed.

This is raw and emotional and messy. And you know what? I don’t care. It’s here and I’m sharing it with you because it wants to be shared.

A message from the passenger’s seat from Tara Wagner on Vimeo.

“Each day offers us the gift of being a special
occasion if we can simply learn that as well as giving,
it is blessed to receive with grace and a grateful heart.”
- Sarah Ban Breathnach

Don’t miss the beautiful thoughts shared in the comments!

Most people think that shadows follow, precede or surround beings or objects. The truth is that they also surround words, ideas, desires, deeds, impulses and memories. – Elie Wiesel

Have you written or said something and been surprised by how others reacted? Maybe they took offense or took defense, maybe they were hurt or angered.

Or maybe something you read or heard felt like a slap to the face. Maybe it was about you and maybe it wasn’t, but you responded quickly and strongly.

I think we’ve all seen this happen. Dealing with emotions and reactions is a fact of life. We all have opinions and beliefs and that’s usually a good thing. But sometimes the shit hits the fan and those emotions begin flying all over the place. Feelings are hurt or arguments start because we can’t see two simple facts through all the drama.

1. The fanned shit isn’t based on reality; it’s based on our stories, shadows of our perspectives. Stories are the things we’ve come to believe based on our experiences or the experiences of others. They aren’t 100% real because other people don’t always experience them, but they are real to us.
2. It’s not always about you.

It’s Not You, It’s Me (Except When It’s Not Me and Is You)

I live a life based on my own beliefs. These beliefs have been shaped by my experiences and the stories I’ve developed. I speak from what I know, from my own understanding and from my own authenticity, moment to moment. I live, act and react in ways that make sense to me.

It’s about me.

Likewise, I know anything I feel about or however I react to someone else is also about me. It’s based on my own stories, my own beliefs, my own perspective. Even when I feel snappy or defensive or offended, I know it’s about me.

It’s not about you.

Moving from a place of authenticity about our own stories irons out most of the wrinkles in our messier interactions.

But even when we move from our own authenticity, we’re still bound to hurt someone’s feelings at some point, we’re likely to find ourselves within misunderstandings and despite our best intentions, and especially when we’re at our most authentic, we are going to offend others.

This doesn’t mean what you said was about them. It means how they responded isn’t about you.

Reactions are always about the reactor. Even when someone is intentionally trying to hurt or offend us, our feelings speak more about our stories than the facts of the situation. And this is true in regards to every single emotion: love, jealousy, anger, loneliness, excitement.

Beneath every reaction is a story.

Stories aren’t bad until they hold back, keep down or hurt you or others. As soon as someone feels hindered or hurt, it’s time to recognize the stories so that we can overcome them.

I’m constantly overcoming my stories. In fact the more you move toward living an organic life, the more inorganic stories you’ll be challenged to remove. (Seriously. I feel like I’m recognizing and overcoming my stories Every. Freaking. Day.)

Mine is a process with two parts:

1. Recognize Who Owns It

Every time the emotions start flying, the very first step I take is back. Before I can do anything I have to sort out my response from the other components. Walking away or holding onto my response gives me space to understand it.

Then I have to admit that my reaction is mine to own. I can’t blame or point fingers. I can’t play the victim role. I have to own it.

The same applies if someone responds to me with an exaggerated response: I have to recognize it’s not always about me, own my own reaction and allow the other person to have whatever experience they choose (by allowing them to own it or not).

Note to Self: You can’t make them own it. That’s their business. Meaning it’s not about you so butt out!

2. Dig Into It

When something virtually unrelated to me (or maybe totally related to me) rubs me the wrong way I know it’s time to question it and listen to the answers.

I know, even if I’m not ready to admit it, that it’s speaking to me (not about me) and with some truth I’m apparently resisting. Asking myself a few questions always opens me up to what is really going on:

• Why does this bother me?
• What other emotions is this triggering for me?
• What is this reminding me of or what memories are associated with this?
• What do I need to acknowledge in myself here?

Something similar can be done for others: Without judgment or assumptions we can try to understand their perspective and what shapes it. With compassion we can acknowledge where they are, have empathy for their experience and validate their reaction…all without owning it and without allowing it to own us.

Yes, owning our own stuff is uncomfortable. Digging into it can be downright excruciating. It can be a long, sometimes frustrating, process.

But knowing what makes us tick – knowing who we are and why – is crucial to liberating ourselves from the drama that surrounds us.

Keep this in mind the next time you get frustrated by your child’s words or hurt by your partner’s actions or when you read something you perceive as offensive or rude:

Only after we judge our emotions can we judge a situation.

Once you know who owns it, once you have some understanding or empathy for why it exists, only then can you move forward into finding the best way to handle it. (And that’s a process too.)

Join the conversation by subscribing to the comments!

“Most of the shadows of this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Welcome back to The Organic Sister!

Things look a little differently over here. I’m nervously excited to show you!

If you’re reading things in a reader, email or other feed I’d love for you to come and see the small changes I’ve made. It isn’t much. In fact, most of the changes you’ll see will be in what you’ll read here in the future.

There are things I’ve been holding back, things I’ve been wanting to say about conventional wisdom but haven’t.

They are things about life, learning, love and our own authenticity.

But like Ralph said up there, I was creating a lot of shadows by standing in my own sunshine. And I’m not doing that anymore.

I’ve given myself permission to live up to my own potential, my own dreams. I’m breathing through fears, foregoing all that “conventional wisdom” and encouraging you to consider the same. I hope you’ll decide to join me as I shift gears here.

Wondering what all this is about?

It’s about being organic.

Being organic is about reconsidering conventional wisdom, following our own organic nature, living authentically and supporting that authenticity in others.

We can live our lives and love and grow in such a natural, organic way that our spirits heal and our relationships thrive and our mutual worlds change.

We can choose to be so organic that our very existence becomes a peaceful protest to the status quo and beautiful testament to our beliefs.

That is an excerpt from my free ebook, Be Organic: An Invitation to Change Your World.

You can access it and read more of what I’m talking about here:

Because conventional wisdom just isn’t natural…

I hope that you’ll read it, think about conventional wisdom in your own life and then come back here and let me know what your thoughts.

I also hope that it inspires you to join me, to share it with others and to use it to change your world.

You’ve been invited. Will you join me?

This is my newest piece of art, a gift from the lovely Mari Dieumegard and I can’t wait to hang it in the new rig (I plan to have a real desk again – this will be above it).

I love this print, called Balance, especially right now. It reminds me to keep moving, to be daring, to go for it. It reminds me to keep my head up and my eyes on the goal but to enjoy the view and the company. It tells me to keep my arms and my heart open. And it feels powerful to me, but also carefree, as if it says “Look what amazing thing I can do on an average Sunday afternoon.”

Life has been a tightrope these past few weeks and through the madness I’ve had to harness that carefree, open-hearted power. I’ve had to remind myself of what I am capable of on any given day. It doesn’t always look like such an amazing daredevil feat but it sure feels like one.

I’m launching my new website on Tuesday with a BIG giveaway here on the blog and having a very real deadline with very cool sponsors can be a little daunting. Add to the mix a deep desire to not sacrifice our personal life, while also handling the emotional upheaval of so many changes and it was enough to elicit concern from loved ones.

It reminds me of this one from StoryPeople:

“Most people she never tells about the tightrope because she doesn’t want
to listen to their helpful comments from the ground.”

Yes, I was on a tightrope, one that looked unnecessary or dangerous at times. But I walked across it. It had its messy moments and moments where I nearly fell, but I took a risk. And for that I’m proud.

I’m also proud that I DO tell people about the tightrope, the challenge, the maddening moments of frustration, the days I want to quit. I’m proud that I have the courage to be vulnerable. It’s uncomfortable (for me and sometimes for others) but it makes my accomplishments all the more real for me.

I look at these two pieces of art and they remind me of what I so often forget: I am open, accepting of a challenge, ready to be daring, push my own envelope, take risks and grow. And as the madness winds down and I have time to lounge, I can look at those personal achievements and hurdles and feel good.

So how did I find this balance through the mad rush of work?

By accepting it wouldn’t look the way I thought it would.

It didn’t look like equaling doled out chunks of time. It didn’t look like me keeping up with my early morning routines or my physical therapy. It didn’t always look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Instead it looked like me passionately devouring my Task List, sometimes for hours on end, several days in a row. A few late nights and hectic days and lots of personal successes and reminders from my husband to eat or take a break. Then, right around the time my eyes went crossed, I’d pull back for days or weeks or even months at a time. I worked went I felt inspired to work, played when I felt inspired to play.

With Zeb immersed in a new computer game, we often sat side-by-side on our laptops, he sharing his accomplishments while I shared mine. And when you make your own schedule you get to do cool things like take your son on a lunch date or curl up in bed with your hubby all morning or stay in your pajamas on laundry day.

When I think of balance, I don’t think of how many hours I spend in each area of my life. I think of how I feel: how much time I spend doing what I love and enjoying it. That feels balanced.

That’s the purpose of life for me: enjoying the hell out of the adventure of living. And I feel balanced.

What’s balance look like in your life?

I know myself. I know that I will be stuck until I have two things: a platform to express and the validation that Where I Am is okay. This blog gives me the first; my husband and all of your deep, thoughtful and soul-dripping comments give me the second.

There are times when we need to mope and be in the thick of it (we can’t get through it without going through it). It’s where I’ve been the past few days. Then there are times when Life snorts at your experience and throws another into the mix and you have little choice but to roll with it.

Yes, just less than 24 hours after the first blow, we were dealt another. And again, in reality, it’s not a really big deal. But when you’re already neck-deep in yuck, it sure feels like a kick in the teeth.

Yesterday we got a notice that we are not allowed to park Benny in front of my parent’s house. We had 72 hours to move. 72 hours to do what we wanted another two weeks to accomplish.

Oh trust me, I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry and throw a fit and curse the neighbor who complained. But I kept my composure…there were people present after all. Instead, I acquiesced to the moment, scraped my heart off the floor and allowed the experience to propel me.

Movement through madness is a healing salve.

As your kind words poured in, we packed up our household and moved it all into my parent’s garage. As your comments brought me to tears, we moved our clothing into their spare room. As I absorbed your love and your Truth, we got Benny ready to move - without us.

I felt a little like a person getting ready to take her dog to the pound. Guilty and apologetic and tearful. We are attached after all, Benny and I. He’s my Dream-maker, my first liberator, and moving on from that grips at my chest.

Last night, with Zeb at a sleepover with his Gramma, Justin and I slept in Benny for the last time. And as we laughed and reminisced, in my heart I started to let go of my fear.

With the threat of entrapment still lingering over my dreams, watching Benny lumbering behind me down the road and leaving him behind at my father-in-law’s home for the time being took a lot of deep breaths. It was scary. On one hand it’s a necessary step. In order to get the new rig, we have to let the old one go.

But in letting Benny go I was relinquishing my freedom. For awhile at least, I have no means of escape. He’s my last tangible tie to life on the road. And that, my friends, takes a large heaping of Trust.

I’m breathing deep. I’m trusting my dreams are real and valid and happening. I’m trusting our perseverance and ingenuity to keep us from stagnancy in this place we so badly don’t want to be. I’m (just barely, mostly unwillingly, hardly contentedly) trusting the timing of it all. And I’m trusting we are loved and not alone in this, too. I’m not alone in this.

Alone is a scary place to be. But I know it’s a place I choose. I push companionship away when I hurt. I hurt myself deeper, really. But I am loved and blessed. Justin knows me. He knows to hold me when I tell him I want to be alone. He gives me the space to Be and the space to grow, a space that just happens to be within his arms. And my once battered heart is reminded again that it’s a safe place to be.

Life is challenging me, offering a long-avoided opportunity to heal. It’s requesting I stretch in order to grow. These are my growing pains. This is my growth spurt. As hard as it is to say at times, I know this place is good.

Yesterday we were dealt a nasty blow to our dreams. The possibility of leaving Las Vegas by January has ended. The idea of two or three extra months here shouldn’t leave me in tears on the floor, but it did.

I don’t want to be here. I resist it with every fiber of my being. I make it clear to everyone I speak with that I’m only visiting. That this is not my home. I don’t feel good here, I don’t feel whole or fed or at peace here. I feel needy and desperate and lonely and empty. It took me 28 years to escape this the first time and seven months later I’m here again.

I don’t want to hear that there is a reason, that there is a message or a lesson in all this. I don’t want to hear that I need to let go, that I need to trust. I know it, but I resist it anyway.

Why? Because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of feeling trapped. I’m afraid of some giant cosmic hand telling me I’m “supposed to” be somewhere that makes me unhappy. I’m afraid of losing what I’ve found or finding that I didn’t deserve it in the first place.

In this past year I’ve wholeheartedly embraced a fear that has had me paralyzed for decades. I’ve lived in fear of Too Good Too Last, and I carefully kept my life and my joy at bay. I kept myself from loving or living unconditionally to protect myself from the pain that follows loss. Does that even make sense? I’ve felt that anything good will be taken from me, so I keep things two degrees off Good just to play it safe.

I thought through this amazing journey that I had conquered all of that. But as soon as Justin broke the news yesterday I felt that crushing fear, that desperate grasp for safety, those fortress walls springing back around me, my chest tightening and my joy slipping through my fingers. I heard that old familiar voice, “See? I told you it couldn’t last. Something was bound to come along and tear our dreams apart. This is it. It’s going to fall apart and you’re going to be trapped. You don’t deserve anything more.”

Ouch. I know it doesn’t even sound rational. It doesn’t feel rational either. It hurts. And it’s scary. It’s rubbing up against beliefs and thoughts I’m not ready to examine and it’s not accepting my attempt to put it off. It’s challenging me and it’s forcing me to stretch and grow. And all of that is good. I know it’s good. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I want to face this. I want to push through it. I want to be handed a challenge and fly over it. I want to feel energized and more determined by it. I want to keep smiling, keep holding onto my joy. I want to embrace my fear with compassion.

I want to say I’m not in tears, hiding my face in my pillow and guarding myself against anything that feels good. I want to say I’m not pushing away the love I’m handed, letting go of the dreams I have for fear of more pain. I want to say I’m not questioning my spirituality, questioning whether Gd really is the bully with the magnifying glass burning holes in my heart.

But I can’t say any of that right now. It wouldn’t be real, authentic.

In this moment, right now, I hurt. In this moment, I feel a suffocating fear. This moment is messy and ugly and demanding tears. This moment is not allowing me to move.

So I’m doing the only thing this moment is asking me to do: I’m sitting in it. I’m allowing myself to cry or feel afraid or guarded. I’m allowing myself to resist. I’m embracing the messy and the vulnerable and the whiney. I’m playing the victim, and the Blame Game, and the big baby. I’m wallowing and hurting and questioning. I’m distracting myself. I’m wavering between sobs and angry outbursts.

No, it doesn’t really make sense. No, the details aren’t really that big of a deal. But this is what Life has handed my heart: not another three months, but a giant serving of Here’s Your Opportunity with a side of It’s Time To Face This Already.

It’s never about the details. It’s never about what happened or what’s going to happen. It’s about the messages we have hidden in our hearts, the stories we listen to, how they affect us, what we feel and what’s happening inside of us. It’s the bigger picture, when we can see it…and when we can’t.

I can’t see it. I can say it, but I’m too deep in it to really know it to be true. I can look at the words and reread them and still I hear that cynical, biting voice in my mind. So I’m holding onto the only two things I really do know to be true: I can be nothing but authentic. And life will ebb and flow, all things will pass.

This is me, authentic. Waiting for the fear to pass, for my ability to let it go.

This is the post in which a very depressed state of being gets more deeply accepted and channeled into a place of compassion. I hope.

Physically speaking, my body is not in a very good place. Scoliosis leads to lots of chronic conditions and major spinal fusions leave you very few corrective options. I’m recently dealing with increased nerve impingement and degeneration and just learned of an increased risk for osteoporosis. All of this has made it difficult for me to play, hoop, or sleep comfortably; to sit, stand or walk for too long.

Being very much a “fixer” and an avid learner/researcher, it’s been incredibly frustrating to find so few solutions to the problem. (Exercise, yoga, chiropractic…even massage has caused problems.)

There have only been two things that have made a significant impact on both pain and energy:

1. Gluten-free foods
2. Grass-fed meat and dairy

The first is not easy to stick to on the road. The second can be difficult to find; we’ve used sites like LocalHarvest.org and farmer’s markets but with less luck than we hoped.

But it dawned on me recently that if I’m not careful, and maybe even if I am, I’m going to end up in a wheelchair within a decade or two. Needless to say, such a thought is enough to knock you down a bit. I spent several days in a serious depression while I processed and talked through my fears and struggles.

Then I read Ronnie’s words on unschooling her body.

Love my body. Love where I live. Love what is. It sounds like unschooling. I could unschool my body.

Wait. Unschool my body? What would that look like?

If I were going to unschool my body…
I would make lots of cool stuff available to it (gear and hikes and massages).
I would spend time with it.
I would have fun with it and do things it enjoys.
I would enjoy it.
I would provide it with a fun and colorful variety of foods.
I would feel good about it.
I would feel good.

I would not disparage it.
I would not feel ashamed of it.
I would not compare it to other bodies in negative ways.
I would not abuse it.

And I absolutely would not let society or any individual tell me what it should be.

I got to thinking about this, about treating my body with compassion, treating it as I would treat my child, with compassion and trust. Instead of focusing on or pushing it towards what I want it to be, simply loving it for what it is…

What might that look like for me?

• I would regularly point out its strengths.
• I would show my appreciation for its abilities.
• I would view its pain with loving compassion.
• I would actively and insistently seek out the foods it needs.
• I would be gentle and not push it to do things.
• I would slow down to its pace.
• I would find things that made it feel good.
• I would spoil it with love.
• I would smile when I see it.
• I would seek out activities it would enjoy.
• I would listen intently to it.
• I would accept it and love it unconditionally.
• I would validate it and the other people it affects (like my son and husband) without making anyone wrong.

Can I do this? Can I love myself and my body with the same unconditional love and acceptance, giving it everything it needs without excuses or resentment?

Ronnie’s words have been my guidance over the past week as I make my way toward a more authentic relationship with my body, one that is aligned with the way in which we choose to live with each other. Just like our family relationships, there have been less than authentic moments. There have been times of frustration, and even downright body neglect.

But there have also been successes: a new pillow has made for a very happy neck in the morning, almost no gluten has decreased my low back and knee pain substantially, more water has left me with more energy. I was even able to share in the water park fun yesterday while still honoring my bodies limits. And my dear sweet hubby has been instrumental in making sure I’m taking care of me.

But mostly, I’ve been changing my perspective.

I’ve reminded myself that whatever may happen down the road, I need to live fully and authentically in this moment right now. I can’t fully control what the future holds or what this body may be capable of, but I can fully live without regret. I can enjoy everything it will allow me until that’s no longer an option.

Rejoice in the things that are present; all else is beyond thee.  ~Montaigne

What about you? Can you love your body like you love your child?

My dreads and I have been together for two years. Compared to the first year, it really doesn’t seem like much has changed.

I fluctuate between no ‘poo and shampoo and have been experimenting with liquid soap nuts. It would probably be good if I made up my mind, but I’m a creature of non-habit when it comes to this. I have noticed a change in the amount of dandruff since we’ve been on the road and I’m assuming it has to do with a combination of softer water and less drying climates.

It doesn’t feel as if they’ve done any growing but my bangs have and I’m ready to say goodbye to them.

Day One, Year One and Year Two

The meaning and lessons they teach me are the same and are still a near-daily occurrence. (Some people never learn. ) I’m still understanding a lot about judgment, self-acceptance and vanity.

I’ve had a few times this past year where I was ready to pick up the scissors and say goodbye. One particular incident had me feeling so completely self-conscious I faced almost a month of doubt:

Two days before Christmas, Zeb and I ventured out to the stores. I really should have known better – crowds and craziness overwhelm me. I was doing good though, handling what was coming my way until we walked down one particular aisle in one particular store looking for one particular item.

A woman and her teen daughter were there and I watched them for a moment. They were gorgeous in a matching sort of way that made me smile for them. Their hair was curled the same, their clothes were trendy, their makeup perfect. They were talking animatedly and by their demeanor you could tell they were close and enjoying their shopping trip together.

But then the daughter took one looked at me – perhaps she saw my frizzy, unwrapped dreads, lack of makeup and casual clothes – and she leaned over and whispered to her mom who looked my way, rolled her eyes and made a loud comment to her daughter that simply crushed me.

I don’t even remember the exact words now (something about my childhood, I think), nor do they really matter. What hurt was in one glance she assumed she knew my life story. She made a snap judgment about me based on my outward appearance, disregarding anything else she could have taken in – the smile I had given them moments before, the connection I had with my son as we looked for his dad’s gift, the tired look in my eyes that said it had already been a long morning.

It wasn’t the only negative encounter I had that day; after all it was two days before Christmas and everyone was stressed. But it was the one that set my mood for the following week. And by the time I got home and was in tears from the affect of the stress, it was the only experience I was really crying over. (Thank goodness for loving husbands and their comforting embraces.)

For several weeks the judgment I felt lingered over me. I allowed their hurtful comments to make me feel ugly and doubt myself and all that I do.

But beneath my doubt and my hurt feelings the same words kept echoing:

21. Let go of what others want me to be and Just Be Me

I put the desire out there. I stated what I wanted to do. But I had no idea my resolve would be so quickly tested.

I remembered something I wrote almost four years ago about the impact one particular woman had on me.

So I was watching “So You Think You Can Dance”…I don’t know why but I always get sucked into the auditions and lose interest in the actual competition.

Anyway, there was a girl on there that was, well….unique. She had this red/orange/bleachy looking hair and a very eccentric attitude. Instantly I loved her. You could tell dance was her self-expression. And through the choreography, you could see her start to break down. She just couldn’t do it. They put her up on the chopping block because of it and asked her to redeem herself by dancing in her own style to prove she could dance. And well, she went nutsy. Flailing, running, really indistinguishable.

But here’s what resonated with me: They called her crazy and she was deeply thankful for that. She said she felt like she was losing herself in the choreography and admitted her craziness and even looked relieved when they cut her. (I was PMSing so I cried with her. It was great.)

And then I started thinking. Do I love me enough to lose a huge opportunity because it might make me a little more like the rest of the world?

Or maybe I should’ve ask Do I love me enough to risk my feelings being hurt by someone who doesn’t know me well enough to judge?

How I Tend To Wear Them These Days

Well, I didn’t shave my head, nor do I still want to. So I guess I can answer that question with a resounding Yes! I realize now that authenticity – or whatever this is driving me to the brink of insanity – isn’t always easy or accepted or appreciated.

But authentic is the only thing I can be.

P.S. I have a super cool dready giveaway from Sand and Sky Creations coming up soon! Stay tuned!