On Being Real (Worthy)
I love real butter
Fresh fall air beats out the best air conditioner for sure
And there is no fruit flavored gum candy or syrup that tastes anywhere near as good as the actual fruit itself.
I know I am not alone in this. Everyone, given a choice prefers the real to the fake. The genuine to the knock off.
Real costs more, is desired more, and carries more substance.
So why is it then that as women who know the value of real, we settle for less in ourselves, our friends and our relationships?
What creates that climate?
Is it fear?
Maybe we wont be liked (or loved) if we are real?
If not fear then what are the other possibilities?
Is it conforming? Does who we sense that we are seem out of step with what we see in the world around us thereby driving us to become our best imitation of ourselves instead of being real, as we strive to carefully fit in with societal expectations?
That begs the question, who is it exactly that originates societies expectations? Who is behind the news or the fashion and currently admired humans that over saturate our eyes, minds and ears via the TV, movies, magazines and the Internet?
What is the fascination with holding other humans up to emulate rather than being what it is we admire in them in the first place.
So if its not fear or the desire to conform what is it?
There seems to be one more reason why a woman cant be real.
Because she doesn't know who she really is.
Like it or not, we are all products of all that came before us to a certain extent.
Be a good girl, sit up straight, eat all your food, behave. Those are all powerhouse subliminals that inadvertently work against realness aren't they?
Its not that those time honored parental phrases are wrong but they were perhaps in many cases the only defining message that got through to our "child" ears.
No matter. The adult ears and eyes we have now are the ones that are in charge. What do they tell us about what is real and what isn't?
On this walk through life we carry inside all the stages we have ever been. Little girl, teenager, woman....its all still there inside so the capacity to know who we are isn't unattainable even if it does seem just beyond our grasp at the moment.
It just requires a determined reach that's all.
Wether our suppression of our own realness comes from fear of failure or the need of conformity of the lack of self knowledge, the solution appears to be the same.
What if a woman took a week to explore this?
Would the world stop spinning?
We know the answer to that.
So what's to be lost in trying.
It doesn't have to be in a scary drastic way.
A woman does not have to chop off all her hair or go braless to work to begin to be authentic. It doesn't have to be big or external at all.
It can be as small as stopping yourself in one moment to really look at the person in front of you.
Or doing something you want to that you fear might seem silly if someone was watching...like walking in the rain.
The world wants to claim your childlike enjoyment of life. Your innocence and authenticity. It wants to leave you jaded and bitter.
The universe wants the opposite.
The universe is an impressive and explosive mixture of unique and varied forms all working in perfect harmony.
Why should we as women have to be any less?