Last week I got an accidental haircut.  I went in for a complimentary touch-up (less than a trim) and came out with 4 inches of less hair.  I cried as soon as I stepped out of the salon door and continued in my car for the whole hour-long drive home, and for two more days after.  I felt ugly, but more specifically - I didn’t feel like myself.  When I looked in the mirror, I felt like a stranger in my own skin.  I’ve had so many different haircuts and styles over the last three and half years, so I was surprised by my reaction.  I had very long hair for most of my life and decided to chop it in 2014.  This initial cut was such a freeing experience, and has continued to be over the last few years.  I was once told that I would only look good with long hair, and I truly felt that was true... until I cut it.  I felt like I didn’t have to hide behind my long locks anymore.  I can feel pretty and sexy and confident with short hair?  Yes, and even more so than I had ever felt before.  Why? Perhaps because it was an external form of stripping (in this case shedding).  Shedding the physical hair, yet also the ideas and lies I had been fed and continued to feed myself.  “I’m not the kind of person who looks good like x.”  I’ve since experimented with many lengths ranging from my chin to my shoulder, and a few different styles of bangs.  So why was this recent haircut such a shock?  Beyond not setting out to do it on purpose and it being such a drastic change - conditioning.  In this case, I felt like I couldn’t have hair shorter than my chin because I have a strong jaw and long chin, and therefore the proportions of my face would be accentuated in an unflattering way. 

I have felt like that often throughout my life, and not just with my hair, but also with much deeper subjects.  This conditioning can be so insideous.  In the beginning of this year, I vowed for unapologetic self-acceptance.  I believe this haircut has been a small part of that journey.  After I let myself cry and complain and feel the emotions, I knew I had to face myself.  Why am I so hung up on how I look?  Why do specific hairstyles help me to feel like me?  This is a heavy topic.  What makes us who we are?  Our hair certainly has nothing to do with it.  How can I learn to feel “like myself” right now, without something that shapes my identity in the way I want to be seen?  I’m not going to wait for my hair to grow out again to be able to sigh and go, “okay now I feel better.”  Fuck that.  That is such a restricted, stifled way to live, and I’ve lived too much of my life that way already.  So I went within.  I listened.  What came up is that I still seek approval from my mom.  I don’t allow this to effect my actions (hence cutting my hair off and dying it red as a teenager and chopping it again a few years ago), yet I still want her to think I’m beautiful.  Because she put so much emphasis on beauty during my upbringing.  Because she was always more noticed and accepted for her beauty than I was.  This is all bullshit because it has nothing to do with the truth.  It simply stems from barriers I created as a result of the environment I was conditioned in.  Once this clear truth (the truth of the conditioning) came through, I was able to let it go.  I talked to her.  I told her she was beautiful and had something to offer the world.  I told her that my hair has nothing to do with her (something she already knows), that she is who she is regardless of appearances, circumstances and beyond.  She is infinite.  She is my essence.  In her highest self, she has no fear.  She is always in the truth, and she is courageous in her truth.  She is me.  I am her.  

I know this, yet I get caught up in my humanness (as humans do).  In my appearance, my identity.  So what’s all of that for?  Perhaps mirages for us to grow through and overcome.  Yet also, without our identities, we would all appear the same.  The beautiful thing about the external world is that we get to choose.  We get to choose how we present ourselves - with our clothing, hairstyles, spaces.  We have the freedom of self-expression.  What hairstyle (and outfits and home items) would you choose if you broke down some of the conditioning around identity?  If you detached from your identity and made choices from your truest form, without trying to prove anything to yourself or others?  In this case, I didn’t make the choice of how my hair would look, but I choose to embrace it - to see myself clearly regardless.  The importance does not lie in the choice itself, it lies in the intention behind it.  When we don’t have motives, or when the only motive we have is to feel connected to ourselves, we become free.

Photo by Jamie Arrigo

I’ve always known this intellectually, that I am enough.  I am whole on my own.  I don’t need anyone or anything to aid in being enough.  Yet, as I’ve been examining areas and experiences in my life, I’m finding that I’m not fully “there” yet.  I still at times experience guilt and shame for simply being me.  This is absolutely from past conditioning, which I’m working on stripping (it’s a process), hence the name of this series. 

When I dove into the feeling of not being enough, I realized that it has in the past manifested as presenting myself a certain way in order to be seen for who I am.  This has typically been tied to my possessions, not my personality.  It was extremely difficult to accept this as true because I’ve never used my “things” to prove anything to others.  But I have used my things as a way to feel like myself.  Perhaps it was filling myself with a false sense of authenticity - even if the objects resonated with me.  This is why I stress that this work is rooted in the relationship we have with our objects, not the objects themselves.  I can only be myself and feel like myself in my nakedness.  So when I’m seeking something from them (objects), I am unable to seek the same subject or theme from myself.  In simpler terms - I’m looking in the wrong places.  I have everything I need within, so when I look to external sources, even for self-confirmation of any kind (even if the sources are healthy people we love or ethical objects we love), I’m reverberating that in some capacity, I am not enough.

Lately, I’ve been going through the process of ridding myself of almost all of my things.  Not because I made the decision to, or wanted to, but because in a higher sense I am being asked to.  I’m simply choosing to follow that nudge.  At the same time, I’ve had some illuminating, painful, and beautiful realizations and “aha” moments (through Unblocked Reparent, meditation, and other intuitive work).  I realized that growing up, I had to deny so many parts of myself in order to exist in my environment - I was not able to simply be me.   The process I’m going through now - while incredibly uncomfortable - feels like a beautiful gift.  A gift of being born again, in order to rise as my true self.  I’ve been given a clean slate, to metaphorically go back into the womb, as a gestation period.  So rather than adding things into my life to fill any emptiness I may be feeling, I’m shedding life as I know it (ideas, ways of being, things) in order to open the space for me to be enough without any of it - with nothing but my naked self.  I have no crutch to fall back on, and I don’t need one.  No one does.

This work is not about curating a perfect lifestyle.  It’s about warmth and invitation - to yourself.  Your needs, desires, fears, flaws.  It’s an invitation to all of it.  To examine it so that you can form a new relationship with yourself in order grow.  Just like our relationships with people, our objects are our mirrors.  Examine each one of your objects.  First check-in with yourself, and then ask the object - what are you here for?  What are you showing me?

If you are looking to go deeper into this work, you can book a one-on-one session here. 

Photo by Claire Cottrell.

On New Years Eve, I spontaneously wrote a caption on my instagram post - an honest and raw account of how I was feeling as I reflected on 2017.  I told myself I wouldn’t repeat it in a post on the journal, yet here I am, still reflecting and feeling compelled to expand.  To expand on that post, and to expand in my life.  In order to expand, I have to be in the truth.  In my truth.  I’m still reflecting, going within, and spending most of my time alone.  I’m sitting with what happened last year.  Not to relive it, or to cleanse it, but rather to allow myself and my body some time to move through it (my body has gone through a lot and is in need of major rest).  2017 was excruciating and exhausting (politically, personally, etc.).  It was a whirlwind.  No…it was a shit show. 

As I reflect, I see that I asked for it.  I asked for it in my commitment to my growth.  In my commitment to my truth and authenticity.  I asked for it in my vow.  In 2014, I made a vow instead of a resolution - vulnerability.  That year I learned to love myself in a deeper way than I ever knew I could.  I committed to being with myself.  To being more in my body.  And that presence required the allowance to love myself.  That year I met Jeff, who returned that love.  He also showed me that my vulnerability was beautiful because he accepted me in all of my messiness.  He accepted that I was flawed, and he supported my commitment to my self-work.  Every year I now make a new vow.  

The definition of resolution is “a firm decision to do or not to do something.”  Often, it’s giving something up - restricting, withholding - and it almost feels punishing.  The definition of vow is “a solemn promise.”  Some synonyms include:  commitment, affirmation, word of honor.  Every year I make a promise to myself by honoring that word of commitment.  The vow is an ongoing affirmation that never ends with the year’s closing, but begins with the year’s opening.  It’s not linear or limiting, but rather, fluid.  It’s soft and forgiving.  I make sure to create all of these vows with love, in order to grow and expand beyond my current understanding of self and of others.

My vow to myself for 2017 was to lean-in more.  Immediately after making that vow, life as I knew it blew up.  But I didn't blow up (even when I wanted to). I leaned in.  I listened.  When everything around me was chaotic, when I was crying and screaming and questioning everything, I never gave up on my truth.  I never compromised my own faith in myself and the universe.  As I lay in bed with a cold, reflecting, there's so much to continue to lean-in to.  And that is something I feel immense gratitude for.  That there will always be growth (if I commit to it).  Most obviously, I am grateful to have my own bed to rest in (after not having a bed for so long).  I am grateful for my body, despite having been through so much and so weathered down, she is still here, deeply yearning to heal.  And I am committed to healing with her.  To continue to say no to what doesn't feel right in my intuition in order to say yes to things I wouldn't expect to be in front of me.  To continue to shed - to strip ways of being I picked up that don't serve me, in order to become more and more of who I truly am.  This year, my vow is for unapologetic acceptance.  To not only allow myself to be unapologetically me, but to also accept her - whether in the stillness, the rapture, or the crash.

No compromise.  None.   I don’t mean with others, but with myself.  With my desires.  My truths.  My being.  I will not compromise.  This is my vow to myself - that I will not take less than what I need, what I know I deserve.  I will not deny my body, my inner self of what she requires.  This is essential to her wellbeing, I’m finding.  

I have said yes in my life too many times because I thought I should, even though she knew not to.  Yes, I will show up to this party for my friend even though I feel like complete shit.  Yes, I will sleep with you because it will be fun, even though I wish you were someone else.  Yes, I will take this low work rate, even though I know I deserve more.  Because what if I let my friend down?  Because aren’t I supposed to be enjoying myself?  Because what if more money won’t be coming in?  This is not the voice I want to feed.  This voice is the conditioned one.  The one who feels shame for being an artist.  The one who is scared to draw outside of the lines too often.  The one who was told she could do anything she wanted within the confines of certain rules.  The one who felt misled because why couldn’t she do anything she wanted without limits?  

Boundlessness.  That is what I’m seeking now.  I used to think this meant saying yes to everything.  If I say yes to everything, I will be led to exactly where I’m supposed to be.  I have said yes in my life to things I knew I didn’t want.  I’ve also said no to things I knew I didn’t want.  I would always second guess myself when saying no.  What if I’m supposed to go to Canada to work on this movie set for this amazing actress, instead of spending time building my own career?  Why did I say no?  This is the torture I would put myself through, even though I said no to pursue my own passion.  So I spent an entire year intentionally saying yes to see what would show up for me.  To sort of “test” it out. 

In 2016 I was working on a great freelance styling gig for a great company making great money, until it wasn’t so great.  Until I realized there was a lot of sliminess going on behind the scenes.  Until the person working above me verbally accosted me, and my body responded by being in a constant state of anxiety and fear when I was in the studio.  When I watched the same thing happen to another employee, that was it.  I left.  I was listening to my body, and I could not show up any longer in such terrible, negative energy.  And then I went back.  Because I was asked to.  Because I was experimenting with saying yes.  Because I knew I needed to show up to see what would happen.  My anxiety did not dissipate.  It worsened.   Eventually, I was sort of “phased out.”  I was not meant to be there any longer.  The universe took care of the situation for me.   Many things like this happened in that year, and it was all confirmation that my intuition always knows.  She never fails me.  

Discernment.  This is what I learned so deeply through these experiences.  I have always had a very strong intuition and even what I would call a gift of discernment.  Yet, I still would question myself.   No more.  Because I want more.  No does not mean turning down opportunities or shutting myself off from the world.  It means no, I will not compromise my truths for anything or anyone - not even for my own fears and uncertainties.  Saying no does not always look pretty.  I said no to a moldy apartment that was making me sick, even though it meant couch surfing and being away from my man and our dog.  I said no to every potential new home that didn’t feel right, even though it meant being being without a home.  I said no to working for disrespectful clients, even though it meant also saying no to money.  And yet, I feel stronger in myself than ever before.  I trust that I will be taken care of, without compromise.  

No compromise can always be applied to objects of attainment.  Why purchase or obtain (even if it’s free) something unless it’s 100 percent in line with what you need, deserve, and love.  If you apply this concept not only to your moral compass, but also to your Object Philosophy, you will begin to weed out the objects that don’t serve you and bring in ones that do.  

Stripping down to the root of who you truly are will always help you to collect more mindfully, and more importantly, to connect more intentionally to your things, your rituals, and yourself.  If you need guidance with this, you can book a one-on-one session here.  Feel free to get in touch with any questions.