Derby

I never wanted to be domesticated, that much is clear to me now, but I don’t ever remember feeling trapped, just uncertain. Running free never crossed my mind as an option. Did I ever even allow myself to dream?

Maybe I was just looking for time and space?  Time to sort out, not who I wanted to be in this world, but who I thought I could be; and the space to ascertain this, free of the bridle I was sure those around me were fitting for my head. Without this insular time, I couldn’t get past debilitating limits, let alone imagine endless possibilities.  I never allowed myself to see the cheerleaders in my life as anything but soothsaying derailers.

So I did what I thought I was supposed to do, if someone else mapped out my course, even better. On the outside I looked like I was doing all the right things.  On the inside, unhappiness melded into the way of life.

I possess chameleon-like capabilities; I can blend in to any situation, quickly assessing who I need to be in every environment and adapt to my surroundings.  I can be whoever I think others need me to be. I'm not afraid to speak my mind, but if I deem the risk of standing out to be dangerous, I know how to change my colors. I wonder now if this is a good thing, because inside I’m the wild horse not to be tamed.

  

It’s not a question anymore of not knowing.  I finally secured my space and time to imagine the possibilities, and to decide not only who I can be, but who I want to be, who I am. Yet, I can still be blind to my cheerleaders.

It leaves me in a diametric quandary:  The acute fierceness of someone who knows exactly what she wants, pitted against the reticent fear going after it will disappoint me, somehow leading to rejection or failure. I’m uncomfortable bursting out of the gate, but, wow, do I want to run this race.

My 50-year old self, the creative thinker who wants nothing more than the time and space to practice her craft, the opportunity to shape outcomes and empower people along the way, understands she can’t move fast enough when it comes to leaving her own insecurities in the dust.

 

It is never about me, but it is always about me.

The thing is the fear causing us to linger at the starting gate is made up in our heads.  When we can banish it, we’re able to be clear about our intentions, our expectations, to say out loud, with abandon, without apology exactly what it is we want.  And when we express our desires, our cheerleaders not only come into focus, they shine a blinding light on the path ahead.

It’s post time.  Are you ready to run?