Drop the smile, don't pop up, listen to Jessie J: It's ok not to be ok

The boots match the spirit. Here, the beginning of a life-long love affair with knee-high lace up boots.

Am I ok? Wait--are YOU ok? Because if you're ok, I'm ok.

I attended an artist workshop at the beginning of the year with the goal of gaining some clarity into why I can't seem to get out of my own way and make shit happen as the genius artist I am.

Where I'm from, this is the most validating scene you could ever hope for
of your "OK-ness."

When it was my turn to work, I decided to use as a starting point my nervousness when performing. I had felt shaky at the beginning of the workshop--anxious about what was ahead for the day, if people would like me, think that I'm pretty and thin and that I belonged there--all that crap.

I explained that though I have learned how to work around it, or take propanol, I didn't understand why my confidence lacked so much in doing what I love to do. I was asked to stand in front of the group and let it happen: Just plain ol' shake away. I went for it, but I couldn't help but laugh as an attempt to put everyone at ease that what they were witnessing was, I realized, not easy to watch. But not to worry; obviously I'm out of control, but somehow in on the joke of being out of control. With a big smile plastered on my face, waves of shakiness ran through me. 

Then the leader of the workshop asked me to drop that smile. 

That smile was holding back a cascade of tears and emotion that then burst through the seams like Deepwater Horizon.  It felt like a fever was breaking, though I was shocked by it. I stayed with it. I was curious, and I knew I was in good hands, in a safe place, surrounded by open, supportive artists. 

Years ago, I had explored the possibility of there being a memory I had blocked and went into therapy around my senior year of college, only to end up talking about the stupid guy I liked at the time. I guess while this therapist and I were picking apart the three nights I was clinging on to as a sign he loved me, I was already three chicks ago to that guy. Life is funny! I hope somewhere while I've been eating vanilla ice cream, some dude I've dated has been paying good money to a therapist to figure out why I wasn't available.

This is not OK, but what a relief!

Through gentle guidance in this workshop, I was soon revisiting a memory of abuse that happened to me as a child: vintage screams and anger erupted from deep inside, sensations that I had not allowed myself to feel since the trauma occurred. 

At the time it took place, there was a lot of confusion, desperation, and chaos in the lives of the adults in my life. The people who could have helped me did not have the power to do so.  I have no doubt the abuse was an attempt to break my huge spirit, to bring me down a notch, to let me know I wasn't so special. I was a little spitfire who spoke honestly. This was intimidating to someone who needed to exert control. 

Somehow, despite a life so far of fidgetiness, feeling trembly, being super hard on myself, and a little off kilter, I've known something just wasn't right. But early on, I was so worried for the adults in my life and wanted them to be ok, that it set in motion a lifetime of popping up and declaring, I'm OK! 

At the end of this journey in this workshop, when I tried to pop up, I was told not to. Instead, to be gentle with myself. One of the artists asked me if I knew Jessie J's song Who You Are and to remember her words: It's ok not to be ok. Now I am in love with Jessie J's music.

The healing continues, and it is an amazing journey. I want everyone to discover core energetics. Own your power. Be authentic. Change the world!