shapeshifter

There are two core memories that have been coming to the forefront lately.

The first, my father. Leaning against my bureau in his underwear late one night, arms crossed looking up. Me on the top bunk, not sleeping, just worried. I'd lay in fear at night as a child. On some level, it felt like if I didn't hold on tight, I'd float back into the abyss from which I came.

And he's in there woken up by my inability to fall asleep and said to me, "Nicole, you've been at odds with yourself your whole life."

I could have maybe been 9?

Nine. What father has to say this to a young child? Mine said it with no judgment, a bit of frustration, and love. At odds with myself.  I remember hearing this, seeing him, the room, the polka dot wallpaper, feeling the pit in my stomach, the tightness in my chest, the speed of my mind, and being surprised by how validated I felt by that statement. I knew this wasn't how normal people were and there was the confirmation. It was the first time I realized how dialed in I was to some other channel.

Anxiety for as long as I can remember. When I was little I was afraid of the dark, then social situations and people and of not fitting in as an adolescent, then of failure and being unimpressive as an adult. This is the level I've been stuck on but need to leave on the ground, kiss goodbye, and walk away.

The second memory was of me running. Knees burning, hips aching, chest burning, not enjoying any moment. Out for a jog because it was time to get in shape and lose this weight. I need to get skinny because this body doesn't work for me.  Thinness was social currency in middle school so there was little choice in it for me.  This is how you fit in and at that time in my life, fitting in tasted better than food.

Kids weren't nice to me. No one really wanted me around in school but it's understandable because I made people feel uncomfortable.  Too observant, too awkward, the right words didn't come out at the right time, not particularly pretty. Smart, very smart, too many feelings. I didn't want to be around myself honestly. It was exhausting to constantly be aware of how unsatisfactory I was.

I did have some friends but all of it just never really clicked except for the special few. Those friends were such a relief to be around and made it easier to feel ok. Being with people I know liked me made the demons subside. 

Interesting.

So if I'm around people that like me I feel better and don't have to feel this way anymore, then I'm going to make everyone like me. I will knock their socks off. One way or another.

I will do whatever it takes to keep my people happy with me and wanting me, and I'll make those other assholes want me too. I will not fail, I will not be dismissed.  Because it's clear that the better I do the less afraid I am. 

What a scary way to conquer fear.

Based on what I believed everyone needed from me, I shapeshifted for the rest of my life. Up until recently, I have evolved and camouflaged myself to be what the dynamic world around me demanded.

My body, my boundaries, life choices, my relationships, the mismanagement of who I let touch me, and even those things I truly wanted but could never seem to take, were all sacrificed to the will of who I needed to be to feel in control and impressive.  

Determined, is what my grandmother called me last weekend in Newport. On the beach in the sand, in chairs, worshipping the sun, the two of us reflected on life and the family. How tired we are, how much work it is to live a full and complete life, how lucky we all are though. I was telling her how I'm letting my grip on this way of life go and what I hope to accomplish with the rest of it and she said "well, of you I have no doubt. You, more than anything, are a very determined person."

And maybe, at the root of it, I'm not really changing at all.  Maybe I am still and forever more going to bend at the knees of whoever is judging me at the moment. But maybe now I'll only allow that person to be me.