The Space Between Us!
The critic in me has been so harsh on me that I have unintentionally been harsh on others.
My expectations of others are actually my expectations of myself.
I am so hard on myself.
But why is that?
Who do I want to please?
Who do I want to be?
Who am I waiting to be seen as?
I’ve haunted myself my whole life. I saw that sweet, innocent little girl who just wanted to be good but instead was put down for everything she tried just because it didn’t fit into their own personal ideals and expectations of who I should be.
They needed me to be a perfect image of a perfect little girl. My mother needed me to be the desire of who she wished she should have been when she dreamed of the life she dreamed of living for herself.
The critic in her is the critic in me.
And when I didn’t follow her exact commands, she turned on me. Not allowing me to follow my true path but trying to mold me to be her image of what true happiness should look like.
I am so hard on myself.
What do I need the approval of?
What kind of approval?
I don’t have impostor syndrome because I don’t believe I have the skills, knowledge, wisdom, and experience. . . that I have plenty of.
The imposter syndrome I’m experiencing is the knowing that I still have much healing to do.
I still have much shadow work to do. Knowing this and not knowing when the next layer of the onion will be pulled away is a waiting game that makes me anxious and nervous.
It’s not about “if” it will peel off but “when.”
Will I be strong enough to deal with the next layer coming off?
Will I be ready to face the next truth about myself?
I have been hiding behind so many disguises I didn’t even know I had donned on.
Disguises I didn’t even know were hanging in my closet.
Disguises I am now standing in front of, deciding if it is time to trash them.
I am now standing in my closet going through the clothes/costumes/disguises that I haven’t worn in years, even decades, not sure if I’m ready and willing to throw them out just yet.
The comfort of them is more important at the moment than not knowing what the next outfit will look like.
Will I like them as much?
Will they fit and feel right like the old ones?
Will it give me the same sense of security and protection?
The old ones gave me shelter and protection back when that was what I needed most.
But they have been sitting in the closet for so long . . . unused.
Do I still need them?
Do they still even fit me?
Are they the right fit for me right now?
Have I not grown since then?
Have I not expanded beyond my own expectations?
Have I not grown and become more?
Have I not become more open-minded, more abundant, more forgiving, more compassionate with myself?
Have I finally forgiven myself for not being there for me?
Have I acknowledged that that part of me is already healed?
I’m I aware that it is time for me to move on?
Can I walk out of that closet now and leave every bit of clothing/disguise behind?
Taking nothing with me?
NOTHING!
No memories?
No mementos?
No souvenirs?
Nothing?
Walk away.
Burn it.
It doesn’t serve me anymore.
It’s not even me anymore.
That journey – the space between that little innocent girl that I was and the adult I have become today – is the closet I am now standing in front of . . . taking it all in . . . remembering it . . . all the good, bad, sad, happy, strengths, weaknesses, decisions, choices, yes, no’s, open, close, love, aches, pain, fear, courage.
That was the passage I had to take to become me.
The me you see today.
And now I get to smile with a sense of nostalgia.
I get to hold hands once more with that young, innocent, vulnerable, and wide-eyed little girl filled with awe and wonder that I was, and together, we are walking into the sunset of opportunities, possibilities, and dreams yet to be fulfilled.
Affidian Magazine Contributor – Dr. Karina Felix
