being misunderstood saved me

authenticity is when the muse is you

originally posted on Substack

"i'm becoming who i admire, does that mean i admire me?"

I grew up dancing in the dark, laughing without sound, whispering into the silence. The black sheep hidden behind the self-proclaimed black sheep who's voice rose above anyone else's. Sometimes the oldest isn't the protector. Sometimes the oldest is another perpetrator, one who's betrayal stings the most with its proximity. Hiding behind a hierarchy of time, it's easier to dictate the narrative with a 12 year lead.

But this isn't about sibling betrayal, this is about self betrayal. One can certainly contribute to the other, not realizing that internalized self hatred can turn into a need to conform and/or rebel in self destructive ways. Not realizing that the person you're becoming is not only carrying the weight of previous generations but the current one as well. Witnessing the continuation to the next by becoming an aunt a month before my 5th birthday.

Growing up in-between, lost to a sea of chaos. Voice trampled by strife, body stiff from tension, emotions suppressed by uncertainty. Who do I have to become to be seen? To be loved?

Being understood used to feel like an insatiable need; the only way to be noticed, the only way to mean something to somebody. I didn't know in my quest for others to understand me that I would start to see myself through everybody else. It's such an out of body sensation to experience yourself through the lens of others. My life became third person rather than first which means I was giving others more power over my own authenticity. Always seeking approval from some outside source instead of my source.

What a strange concept to not trust yourself to be yourself, something only you can be. But that becomes the norm when trust is built on a flimsy foundation. There's no reference point to anchor to. Your guide, your cradle, your mother is no where to be found. Your compass, your coach, your father is no where to be found.

What is this strange place?

Who am I?

I'm realizing that the vision I've been dreaming of is me. The one I've been chasing since I started to receive. The one I hid in other people, can't be me. I only knew the highlights, the culmination of what I was creating. There was no backstory, only scenes of victory. These dreams created friction in my surroundings. The pain became pronounced; I would get stuck in my head because of it. My dream felt like the opposite of my experience, an impossible, far fetched fantasy I couldn't possibly create in my reality.

Did you know butterflies can’t see their wings?

Only in certain instances can they witness a sliver of their brilliance. Little glimmers, a shock to the system. Moments where you get a peak that there's more to this, more to me. Sometimes I wonder how I survived my childhood, how I didn't become mean. Then I remember those glimmers, ones that have somehow stuck with me despite having little childhood memories. I only needed evidence of more to go after it. To know that there was another way to exist.

I see what we’re creating when I recognize myself as the muse. When I devote myself to me as a creation. When I honor the ability to live. When I experience the reality that needed to exist. It’s not about wanting more from life, I want more from me.

A muse is acted on. A muse is so inspiring that it sparks a reaction. A need to capture, to protect, to nurture. What if you're the muse and the artist? You become the magician.

What does it mean to be a vessel? How does energy move through me?

These are the questions that have been popping up lately as I come to terms with the world I grew up in and the one I want to build. When what's around you feels depleting, where do you get the confidence to create something new? In the middle of a crossroad, I have to decide if I’m enough to be a muse. It’s the moment where you create the option to choose you. The energy has to come from within.

I am the alchemy. I am the becoming.

What happens when you don't believe?

I'm looking around at my environment and realizing, I don't think I can do it. I don't think I'm capable of success. I don't think I can create community or live freely. I doubt my strength as if being alive isn't proof enough. I doubt me because others have doubted themselves.

Their thoughts of you have no bearing on your actions, so why do you act like they do?

It was easier to act like I was weak. Like I couldn't do it, that I'm not capable. I am always the victim of circumstance, too broken to thrive. I can procrastinate or not do the thing, look see, proof of your inadequacy. It's easy to claim inability than to challenge oneself on developing the strength to act. I couldn't act on something I wouldn't even recognize.

This misunderstanding of myself was in direct contrast to how I showed up for others. I developed an overwhelming need to understand everyone because "I was trying to understand people into understanding me." It didn't work and I was left with little to show for the amount of love I poured out. Fortunately for me, being misunderstood led me to explore my inner world and through this exploration, an understanding was forming. What I’m looking for doesn’t need to be found, it needs to be created.

Vulnerability is authenticity.

Everyone is a portal. Some are on, some are off. No need to succumb to the pressure of their curiosity. People don’t need to make sense. Shame is an illusion but illusions can be distorted mirrors. What parts are you trying to hide? What needs are being denied?

In what ways do you want to be loved?

I can't skip the part where I find myself. Knowledge without experience is just information. No matter how much anyone tries, there is no skipping the process. We already know what the point is or the lack thereof. Life is variety. It's infinite possibilities. The experience is the art, the emotion is the experience, the art is the emotion. It's a loop of creativity meant to be celebrated and observed. Look at what experiences intelligence can create. Look at you in your authentic form.

I’m in the weeds and I found them to be beautiful, reputation slandered by shallow rooted grass and clean cut lawns. It's not about proving, it's about confirming, discovering another expression of eternity. The universe is in awe of you, even the gnarly bits. We are symbiotic. One is not above the other but working together.

You’re waiting for someone else to believe in you, permission to be yourself.

"I don’t think that everything happens for a reason. I think you have to find the reason within what’s happening so you can keep the will to continue. Whether it’s a lesson or plain acceptance, that’s up to you. And the universe rewards those who are not afraid to evolve despite whatever revolves around you.

Sometimes shit happens as a result of a man made system built to destroy everything about you and around you, your community, your beliefs, your environment...But you are always welcome to ask for an embrace…and ask for support as you move forward. That is a gift that is always available despite the violence you endure... " -10/21/2022 at 2:12PM on notes app

I decided to be shameless a long time ago. There’s no shame in hardship, it’s what you decide to do with it. It’s not about caring less or more, it’s about choosing where my energy goes. Calling back your power is really just reminding yourself of how expansive you are. A reminder that your role in this is part of the intelligence.

You don't need to invent anything. You are the invention. You are the potential. You are the spark. You are a being that is experiencing the universe in a way that only you can experience.

It has nothing to do with worth. It’s about being able to channel energy. Manipulate, alchemize, transmute. Allowing it to flow. Expression is when you embrace your authenticity. Wanting abundance is just the need to expand energetically.

It’s not if, it’s when.

And isn’t that a relief?

I love the feeling when you're close to a breakthrough. When clarity is near and the picture becomes vibrant. Excitement has arrived, how will you welcome her? She is a blessing, a resurgence of energy. She is a high priestess of knowing, a portal to the future. Host her and she will grant you access to a direct timeline where dreams meet reality.

I've been moving slow and more intentional. Creating takes time so I'm giving room for growth. I'm beginning to meet each moment with a greeting rather than shouting a farewell as I rush past it.

It’s never too late to redefine your story. The past is created from the present. Everything is created from the present.

You deserve to be seen in all of your glory.

There's no expiration date on dreams. Dreams are blueprints, scripts ready to be turned into film. Sometimes the film doesn't turn out exactly like the script but something better due to the collaborative nature of production. There's layers that were needed to get a richer picture.

Maybe you envisioned of being a dancer when you were 7. Any moment can be an opportunity to revisit it. The play after the pause on a VHS, your spot kept until you're ready to press play again. Sometimes the pause is the reason you gave up on the dream but in order to move on, in order to create it, you must press play.

Why don't you like seeing yourself?

I used to not invest in myself, in my beauty because I didn't think it was worth anything. Deep down, I understood my worth, my potential but fear can be convincing. I would attack my muse rather than nurture her. I misunderstood her presence. I mistreated her yet demanded inspiration.

Being misunderstood was internalized and my muse gradually became buried beneath insecurities. But throughout the process of becoming, rejection became the norm, redirected over and over. In my isolation, something unique was being formed. Something that I couldn't ignore. Something that was integral to my existence, forcing me in the direction where it could be born.

This included loss but at the end of the day, destruction is creation. Being misunderstood saved me because it forced me to show up for myself. It forced me to be creative. It forced me to acknowledge what I actually liked and what I wanted. It forced me to decide that yes, I am worth it. I am worth the effort. I am worth nourishment. I am worth love. I am love.

Are you brave enough to express it?

m.c.