Dimming my Light
People often ask if I miss living in Calgary, miss the city. The answers are mixed. Yes, I miss the friends and family left behind, the coffee shop and office life, and IKEA, but I love the lifestyle our family is creating in a smaller rural community. When I really reflect on what I miss since we moved, it is….anonymity.
The first six months after moving back home were great. We were slowly getting our bearings and still travelling back to Calgary for work, and I got to experience that downtown, pre-kids freedom again. My husband and I started meeting new people and creating new friendships. We always met with a clean slate to form our own opinions of others and situations.
Within that first year, I did something vulnerable. I said yes to something I wasn’t comfortable doing in a smaller community setting, I stepped outside my comfort zone, had fun, met new people. It was good….until it wasn’t. The reason for my reservations, insecurities, fears came to fruition. That “they are all going to laugh at you” moment. I put myself out there knowing the risk of “being made fun of” in a situation that wasn’t in my comfort zone. I think what might have been the hardest part of this was that I was expecting or anticipating this happening, and sure enough, it did. Rewind to 18 when similar situations would knock me down, except in this case, I was 38. A professional adult, wife, and mom being made fun of by other adults. I found out I was being laughed at. And for something so unbelievably ridiculous that I am embarrassed it triggered me so much.
So what did I do? I dimmed that light. I greyed (and not a nice warm grey, ha ha) myself out in order to blend in. I didn’t want people knowing me or who I really was, so I hid. And it is sad that I allowed myself to feel this way. God forbid people see me in something patterned and colourful on the street and I hear about it later. I’m quirky and fun, and occasionally that part would come out and almost always I would feel shame after. I went too far with my personality and stories. I’m being different. Isn’t that sad? Add the pandemic in there, which made it even more difficult to express your personality and be confident.
Then one day last summer I found a box that had been packed up since our move. It had my colourful floral Sperry shoes in it. I lit up and put them on, owning this part of me that was packed away. I won't lie, the first compliment in them helped to fuel that flame that was dimmed (thanks Lesley!).
So here I am. 41 I’ve made some big steps in the last four months to start being more me, sharing myself and trying so hard not to give an eff. Jovie, my youngest little spark is my inspiration. I will be damned if I let her bold light tarnish. It seems inevitable, this is what happens at 40, they say. Living authentically is one of the most important things I can do to show her, and my other children, how to let their true light shine.
Share that joy. Take up your space. Shine your light so bright to help spread the joy and colour. Remember that it is the ones that feel the need to dim the lights of others who truly need to see your confidence and joy.
I have these same fears every time I do a post. Those imposter syndrome and light dimming thoughts. I think the confidence in me will continue to grow as I share more…maybe even my voice, or face in a story, and if I am really feeling it, a few versions of the running man I learned in the 90’s. Until then - be kind, accept, and move on. Because everyone deserves joy in their lives.