Waking up…

I woke up feeling a lot clearer thanks to writing down my thoughts last night. I am reconciling the fact that I do not need to impress anyone. I do not need to abide by anyone’s rules. My job, as an adult woman, is to fully be myself and as much as I have been talking about giving myself permission to do that, I finally feel like I believe it.

I was on a Zoom call with my friends last night and looking at myself wearing a turban and tie-dyed overalls. For a soft moment, I liked what I saw. My sense of style is very unique to me and to my way of living. I am an artist in my heart. I love colors and practicality. The turban keeps my hair (and sweat) off of my face. The overalls are comfy and have big pockets. I like this me. I don’t give a fuck about convention. I always kind of knew this but living it out loud feels really good.

On the call, a friend was talking about an acquaintance who is a dance therapist and I swooned and then I thought why the fuck not me? WHY can’t I just go through and finish my art therapy degree?? It’s a fucking calling. I would be DAMN good at it. I LIVE it. I LIVE art therapy every single day. I also have two big projects in the works and I am just going to put my head down and dive in because I don’t give a fuck anymore. I don’t give a fuck who is going to disapprove. That’s their business. And that’s ok. But this is my life.

Cue Billy Joel?

Nah.

Cue this.

That’s my fight song.

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