For as long as I can remember, I have loved creating. I could spend hours as a child drawing or writing. I knew that when the world became too much for me, as it often did, I could always find solace in a story, in the characters I read about or imagined.
But as I grew up, I, like many, was forced to abandon what gave me joy to fulfill the wishes of others. Pleasing the ones we depend upon often becomes not just a way to win approval, but simply to survive.
So we put on a mask, we build walls for our own protection, we become a mirror meant to reflect others’ projections. We bury the child self—the truest self—deep within, enshrouded by a false sense of self, one that can handle life’s misgivings. The inner child might not be free, but at least they are safe.
We wonder how they do not see the mask. But if we never take it off, we manage to convince ourselves just as much as everyone else.
Sooner or later, though, there comes a point where we can no longer continue. We are forced to recognize the fragility of it all: an accident, an illness, a burn-out, a death, a point of no-return.
And all of sudden, our protections become our perils. The mask we’ve worn all these years begins to suffocate us, the walls we built succumb to their own weight, and soon we are confronted by the deception of the mirror. It has, in fact, been lying to us this whole time.
So, do we shed a false sense of self to find a true one?
Do I meet the girl I once was by letting go of the woman I was forced to become?
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It is truly terrifying to be authentic, to let go of a false sense of self when we know the risks.
I’m afraid that the person I’m going to meet, the one underneath all of the layers I’ve put between my truest self and the one I present to the world, simply isn’t good enough.
But then, what does it mean to be good enough?
The child self may still feel fear, but we, as adults, know we are safe.
No one has any power over that little girl except herself. And she gets to decide now what that means.
So creativity then becomes an act of rebellion.
It is the last stage in a decades long process of healing.
It is an act of meeting oneself and knowing oneself, the true self, when done authentically.
And it is an act of self-compassion and self-acceptance in a world that constantly tells us we are incomplete.