Finding my cheetah voice

“…What the world needs right now in order to evolve is to watch one woman at a time live her truest, most beautiful life without asking for permission or offering explanation.”

―Glennon Doyle,Untamed

I am one of those people, who, when someone puts me in a cage, it only makes me push against the bars that much harder.

Tell me I can’t do something? Watch me.

Ask me to explain myself 22 times? I stop answering.

While I know this is my truest nature, the people-pleaser, perfectionist parts of me always feel ashamed. Like it’s empirically wrong to assert myself when what I want, or need, or believe, doesn’t mesh with someone else’s wants, or needs, or beliefs. Especially if that someone else holds power over me.

Thank you, patriarchy.

For the sake of not rocking the boat, I’ll try to play the game. I’ll do the research, gather the data, stifle my emotions, and rationally present my side of the case. “If I can use logic,” I think, “maybe even appeal to their emotional side, too, I can get them to see that what I’m proposing isn’t a threat. It’s an opportunity. An experiment. And because it matters to me, maybe it’ll matter to them.”

But what I’ve learned over the years is that my hope, and my optimism, are wasted energy. Sharing data and logic and what’s in my heart are never enough. I know it every time, right from the start. And yet, I still play the game. I still think something’s going to be different this time. That maybe, if I have enough of a deferent tone, or offer enough caveats, or make enough concessions, that I’ll be able to create a small pocket of understanding where my perspective isn’t seen as an affront. But it never works that way. I always end up feeling small, and hurt, and misunderstood. I end up questioning myself.

What could I have done differently?

Why am I not good enough, not valued enough, for who I am?

What’s so wrong about my wants, or needs, or beliefs that someone else feels they need to be caged? To be belittled? To be molded to fit their vision, rather than allowing me to shape my own?

I am tired of all of these questions.

I am tired of explaining myself to others.

I am tired of explaining myself to myself.

What my truest, most beautiful life looks like isn’t yours to decide.

It may take me a little while to push through these bars. But I think I know the way.

I’m going to harness all the energy I’ve been wasting on explaining myself to others, and redirect it toward honoring myself.

I am a goddamn cheetah.

And I’m going to find the more beautiful world out there that won’t ask me to be anything else.