(This is the 7th post in my series “being seen at 50″)
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Here I am in the middle of my 30 day “being seen at 50” project. As I sip my tea and sort images of myself, I am also teasing out some old, old, old beliefs and patterns. And finding my inner revolutionary.
As the days go by I have been more and more riddled with sabotaging doubts about why I am doing this project. Is it relevant, what are people thinking, why did you say 30 days?
And then there is my personal Kriptonite, “Aren’t you being conceited?”
This last one slays me, leaving me open to all of the worst kinds of self doubt, self censure, and self judgment. It has the power to derail me in an instant, leaving me questioning myself and overriding both my intuition and concrete proof. (Intuition that says that the more we women see ourselves the more we deepen our power; proof this is having impact by the the amazing, supportive comments and acts of self portrait courage being shared.)
This one line “Aren’t you being conceited?” is a replay of a deeply wounding moment in 5th grade. My father accused me of thinking myself better than my classmates when I showed pride in my academic success.
I had unknowingly crossed a taboo of good, humble, appropriate girl behavior.
I was doing well, knew I was doing well, and the gravest transgression: I was proud of my intellect and achievements. I felt good and powerful!
I was taken down for it. I came to understand that I was not good and powerful, certainly not particularity smart, but the worst kind of girl. Proud, vain, self centered, thinking myself better than others.
Point taken. I took this new truth deep into my spirit and a burning tar of shame descended. I would no longer outshine, out perform, over reach what was proper good girl behavior. “Aren’t you being conceited?” became my inner check point, the gatekeeper that saved me from falling prey to the horrible female flaws of vanity and calling too much attention to oneself.
Except it didn’t save me at all. It kept me contained and second guessing myself. Twisting and pretzel-ling myself to walk the fine, often impossible line between being true to my desires, talents and gifts, and constraining myself as not to be seen by the world as thinking too much of myself.
Of course I would confront this particularly nasty self sabotage as I work my way though this series. A series of “selfies”, the name itself conjuring images of conceit for me.
Yet here is something I know, from my own experience and years of coaching women.
We long to be seen.
We need to be seen.
By the world, but most importantly by ourselves.
Not because we are vain or narcissistic. But because we matter. We are here. If we will not see ourselves we get lost in a world that reduces us to “fuckable” or irrelevant. Pretty and cute and therefore worthy of notice, or invisible. Able to do business like a man or too emotional to handle the stress. Self sacrificing or selfish.
Young and beautiful and therefore worthy, or old, worn out and pushed aside.
A selfie is a claiming of space. A declaration of “I am here, look at me, see me” in this moment. I am sexy hot. I am bone weary. I am having the time of my life. I am suffocating in my too small life. I am bored.I am showing up, see me.
This is courage. This is claiming one’s self.
This is my act of defiance to the internalized rule that says I should not be visible. It is an act of defiance in world that may judge me a narcissist, since to post pictures of myself for no other reason than because I want, even demand, to be seen, is not humble. It is proud. It is attention seeking.
So be it. I know the truth. Some may call it vanity or conceit.
I call it self revolution.
I crave looking into my eyes and your eyes and embracing our visibility, our courage to be seen as we are, in a moment of life.
What is your revolution, your defiance of some outdated, internalized rule of how you should be? Power waits for you there.
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(Want to read the rest of the series? It is all here.)
I would love to hear from you and, if you have been following, you know opening my comments is an issue right now. So if you want to share anything go here or e-mail me at sandi@lusciouslife.com.