Being Good (or not)
IWD -Daisy Chain Flower Crown
FInding our true self is an act of love. Expressing it is an act of rebellion. -Cory Muscara
My Clan originates in northern Alberta, Canada. I say Clan because both sides have an official tartan and it sounds catchier than family. They migrated from other places of course, but that’s where the original homesteads are so, in my mind, that’s where the Clan began.
The family, made of hearty, puritan stock, passed down various unconscious mottos about how to be a Good Person. ‘Work hard and if you’re tired you probably need to work harder’, was one of them. We tend to look at the glass as a tad empty and have been known to hold our opinions rigidly while resolutely expressing them with a certain authoritarian tone in our voice (probably because we are tired from working so damn hard) regardless of the accuracy of our point. You can picture stubbornness with a flair for judgment and a pinch of drama. Oh, and I left out righteousness, there is always a hearty dose of that floating around.
I love this family with my whole heart, they are wonderful people, and yet...
The kind-hearted, lovely women of this clan have unintentionally kept me stuck. Until very recently I’ve been accidentally imprisoned (strong word, I know!) in a structure of being a GOOD GIRL, with ‘good’ having very clear parameters of a white, middle-class, heterosexual mother and wife. Oh, and the approval factor goes way up if I’m an active church member. I learned how to BE a woman from my Mom, Aunties, and Grandmas.
I became a skilled faker while, deep inside, my soul yearned to be shown a different path.
Something was missing and I didn’t know what it was, so I tried to find it in guys, booze, and partying. My yearning was not quenched.
I moved on to professional school, marriage, mothering, and a career. My yearning was not quenched.
I ached to be seen, but it wasn’t until I began exploring what was under that need that I was able to address the unknown longing. I had to quietly ask myself some hard questions and, I can tell you, it sucked quite a bit! Things like
why do I feel the need to jump up and be ‘working on something’ every time my husband walks in the door - when in real life he always encourages me to relax and read my book? There’s no need to fake it in my marriage, yet I do,
why do I clam up at family dinners, even with my husband and sons, when I’m an intelligent, interesting person and it’s OK to speak up, yet I don’t?
WHY WAS I FAKING IT?
My list of inner inquiries was long and became painful as my hidden beliefs surfaced and asked for attention. They showed up first in my body (usually a knot in my gut) and then I noticed my behaviors and reactions. To say I wasn’t loving it was an understatement!
I was am not thrilled to recognize the deep sense of unworthiness that has kept me stuck. My adult-accomplished-self tells me I ‘should have grown beyond that’, while my deeper self reminds me what a crock that is. None of us are on a specific timeline of self-discovery, all we can do is buckle up when the going gets hard.
I have not yet been able to fully unstick my hidden beliefs of How To Be Good but I’m getting there. I carry an inner notion that I’m not good enough, in part because I don’t subscribe to the role of a woman, and how to be feminine, the same way my elders do. I don’t believe we need to be heterosexual, married, mothers who go to church. I don’t believe God is a male figure who lives in the sky. I do believe there is a power greater than anything we can currently understand, and it is everywhere. I believe in energy, miracles, and science in equal measure.
I don’t believe a woman is necessarily born in a female body (how can we possibly know how the unknown works?) and I do believe love is fluid. I’m in my long-term, monogamous relationship because I’ve given it a great deal of thought and I whole-heartedly want to be here, yet I also recognize that different kinds of relationships can be equally nourishing.
I am profoundly grateful for the container of love I was raised in. I’m blessed to be tied to a brilliant family that has my back no matter what. They are my safety net and that sense of safety binds me to a belief system I did not choose. I must quench my yearning to be seen as I am - with my own life and beliefs. It’s my responsibility to myself to show up in a way I have never done before and stop hiding behind a curtain I did not create. It is the second scariest thing I’ve ever done (parenting is at the top) - to stand fully as myself in front of the Clan and you, my beloved reader.
I am no longer faking it.
In recognition of International Women’s Day, I wish to honor the women of my family who have walked before me. My Grandmas, Aunties, Cousins, and, of course, my Mom. I love and appreciate every one of you and I know that without your brave, pioneering spirit I would not likely have the courage to stand in my own light and create my own definition of feminine. Thank you.
This essay is in response to an invitation from
and other gorgeous folks.
My Dear Friend I appreciate your presence here. Please know you are a WORTHY and gorgeous human no matter what! We all have our thing(s) and none of them takes away that worthiness so rock on!
I’m curious if you’ve ever faked it? A simple yes or no will do (although the full story is always welcome!).
xoxo Donna
In this excellent article, Ellie and Hazel offer tools for self-distancing. Ellie does a great job of explaining why learning to take a step back from ourselves, and the situation, allows for an opportunity to heal and move on. I loved it!
I hard relate to so many aspects of your words Donna.
But mostly I want to say thank you for this beautifully written piece, in reverence for the women who’ve walked before you and in reverence to your true self emerging more and more ❤️
Really enjoyed this post, Donna. And yes, to the did I fake it question. Honestly, I think as women and girls we "naturally" faked it. Meaning, it was the only way to fit into the small box society placed and allowed us too exist in. We were so limited in legitimate ways in which we could express and define ourselves, faking became a way to get along. Everyone was happy, except us.