The Day I Finally Said No to Crippling Self-Doubt

The Day I Finally Said No to Crippling Self-Doubt

There were two significant gifts that I asked for when I was a child.  When I was 5, it was fine jewelry.  When I was 7, it was a writing desk.  These are unusual gifts for a young child to ask for, but they have also been glaring signs for what I’ve been called to do my entire life and unfortunately strayed away from them for a long time due to shame and resulting self-doubt.

Over the last several months, I have been going through an intense detox period of shedding false beliefs that I believe contributed to my illness.  Things that quite literally made my light go dim and created an opportunity for illness to fester in my body.  As someone who has historically carried a lot of shame and felt disconnected to my identity, I feel like I’ve finally reunited with my spirit, and she’s back to stay.  The truth of who I am is finally emerging, and all the lies are getting exposed for what they really are.

Somewhere along the way, I began shutting down all the things I was passionate about as a child—dressing up, writing, playing the piano, science geek.  Around the age 10, when I was rejected by my first crush and the devastation of rejection and not fitting in, started to stick. (Fuck you, red necklace.  If you were in Mr. Reed’s 5th grade class, ladies, you know exactly what I’m talking about.)  I always felt sensitive and shy as a child, but it wasn’t until that first pang of rejection, that I started to really change to meet other people’s expectations.  The rest is history…

As someone who has carried a deep sense of shame and unworthiness, particularly as a woman, I was quick to give away anything that belonged to me.  If I suspected someone desired a trait of mine, I decided they could have it.  Any hustler that came along, I would get on that shame train and agree I must not be worthy to possess that attribute of my birthright.  Then, the plague of self-doubt would creep in, playing that awful bitch who tells you that you are never good enough to get anything you desire or accomplish any of your dreams.

So at the ripe age of 32, I’ve decided to reclaim it all and stop the excuses for not fulling actualizing into who I’m supposed to become.  I’m getting serious about my writing.  I’m signing up for meaningful workshops that are available and writing daily to improve my craft and show myself and the universe that I mean serious business.  It’s amazing to see how surrendering to the stories that need to be told allow the words to flow out like water.  I’m also exploring metaphysics, and even allowing myself to explore modeling to further express my artistic side. 

People always tell me that I should model, but I never felt qualified or worthy until now (Insufferable self-righteousness seemed more fitting.) I’m also done shrinking as small as possible, subconsciously apologizing for my existence, to make others feel comfortable.  That type of mindset helps no one and almost killed me.  If my feminine power, intellect or beauty intimidates someone, that tells me we aren’t a good match.  I’m done coddling insecure people, who only see me through a lens of competition and not connection.  

I’ve also stopped apologizing for my physical beauty and decided to start celebrating everything that is uniquely me, which is complex and multi-layered like every person there is.  Also, true to my personality type, I want the modeling to be in the avant-garde space because that is the part of dress-up that I always loved as a young girl, remembering romanticizing over Westley in Princess Bride.  I also want to be an example for women to reconnect to their bodies and femininity in a sacred way—the way that has helped heal me.  An elder queen I admire recently told me that I was getting more gorgeous by the week.  I believe her, because it’s my spirit shining through—the true source of beauty.     

I also finally decided to be honest about my writing goals and desires.  My spiritual practice of A Course In Miracles suggests that the people who have accomplished the most on earth have accomplished a fraction of what is available to humanity.  Recently, I asked what if I actually believed that truth and started living it?—that there is an infinite source of power residing within me that wants to actualize into the most powerful and authentic version of myself.   

I had a dream or premonition when I was a young girl that I was supposed to be on the Oprah show someday.  I didn’t know that at the age of 10 or 11 what that could possibly mean, but now I see that as growing into someone who could possibly be on SuperSoul Sunday.  I dream of writing my memoir or sharing how metaphysics saved my life.  I don’t know what it looks like exactly.  I’ve also given up the desire to control out the outcomes or come up with the plan—since I’ve pretty much fucked it up every time I tried to take over. 

I met with a healer, mentor and friend recently and his advice to me as we wrapped-up our time together was, “Infinite possibilities, Brooke.  Infinite possibilities.”   That’s where I’m at now, allowing the universe to unfold the infinite possibilities that lie before me as I’m reclaiming the truth of who I’ve always been. 

No self-doubt.  No more apologizing.

My inner world needs to be introduced to the outer world to reform as the artist, writer, healer, and wise woman I am.   

…And if you happen to know any avant-garde photographer looking for a model, point them my way.

 

 

 

 

 

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