In second grade, I was a sweet little angel. The world was sweet. So I was sweet. I was quiet, and did my very best in school. I got A’s on my report card and never complained. Then my brother came into the world. He would push my limits. As much as I tried to keep my cool with him, I realized I had to fight for survival. It was the only way. I let him annoy me uncontrollably until age 10, when I realized I could beat him up, and I would successfully do that for many years. By third grade, I am bullying the boys on the 4-square court. I would tell them that they sucked a lot at everything, and I would always say I could beat them in any sport we played. I had a unibrow too, so I was tough. Real tough. I was “cool.” Yeah, real cool in third grade.
Growing up, I started to realize that I run on extremes. When I’ve been bad, I’ve been bad. When I’ve been good, I’ve been real good. I lost myself trying to be the most rebellious girl, and again trying to be the perfect saintly girl. The truth is my core was closer to the rebellious girl. By nature… but I am not only one thing. I am not only this saint who doesn’t like to be wild ever, nor am I the girl who was falling over and embarrassing herself at the party. Although I have been both of those things, I am neither one or the other. I always felt that I had to choose one though. As of the past few years, the saint girl has been running the show.
I went to Spain during the month of August. It had ups and it had downs. Some parts were amazing, some parts were not. I loved. I hated. I got kicked out of an air bnb. I got in a verbal fight with the owner of the place. Don’t you judge me, though. What did happen was some serious miscommunication and (likely) some already bias toward my American-woman self and his Russian-man self. I can’t be absolutely sure why it went as awry as it did, but I did stand up for myself.
In a time where before I know I would have avoided this… where my “sweet persona” would have taken over, where the “no it’s okay, avoid all conflict” from the little buddha breathing down my neck would have taken flight, I fought. I fought him when I was certainly in a state of less power. I stood up for what I wanted. If you want specifics, go read the air bnb reviews, because no way am I repeating this story again.
My point is…
We are not all just one thing.
After I stopped being a kid anymore, I always thought that I had to choose. I am this. I am that. I am too masculine. I need to be more feminine. I am “bad.” I am “good”. I am “cool”. I am this. I am that. I wasn’t that kid anymore who just did what she had to do, and didn’t overthink every little thing. Fighting became “bad” too, no no, none of that. No need for bad here. Only peace here. No need to stir anything up. I am so at peace. Do you hear me? Nothing you do phases me! Right…
I wanted to say I hate you. I wanted to say you are wrong. I wanted to say don’t do that, it hurts me. But I bit my tongue and I didn’t say what I wanted, because I am being “good.” I say nothing because I am being “peaceful”. That is a lie. Every time I played “peaceful” when I wanted to fight, I felt deep anxiety. The fight and flight response in me lit up. The fire in me wanted to breathe. It wanted to come out so badly, but I wouldn’t let it. I wouldn’t let it speak the truth!
My truth, and I think the truth of everyone is… I am feminine. I am masculine. I am saint. I am sinner. I am peaceful. I am wild. I am all these things at once. It took all these experiences up until now, and I think Spain, for me to see that. Going to Spain awakened the fighter in me. Maybe my Latina bloodline fed me my medicine I needed to wake up to my natural self. A little bit of the “bad.” The real.
The fighter in me has been shut out for so long. I think she scared me.
I know not every fight is worth fighting… not even close, but some most certainly are. I have to fight, and the saint doesn’t fight. Life won’t always be pretty like my meditation tells me every day. It won’t. And I don’t want pretty all the time. I won’t grow with pretty. I won’t change. I want to live and be crazy and wild and sweet and soft all in one. I am all of these things. I am done labeling myself as all one thing, or thinking that I am all one thing because I am not. I can be sweet and I can be mean. I am up and I am down. I am me. That’s all I can be.