“You must by all means develop a strong opinion of yourself so you don’t end up internalizing the beliefs others have of you.” – Unknown

I have no idea who originally said or wrote those words. Apparently they became a viral internet trend at some point and anyone and everyone was just putting them over their own videos, photos, copying and pasting it into their own statuses… Not one credit or original source that I could find.

To whomever began it, thank you.

Those words have carried me through the past weeks.

Here is what I’ve learned:

You must stop doubting yourself. That doubt is not your own. It was taught to you, while you were trying to pass the judgement of those whose opinions found a way to matter more to you than your own. Those who rewarded you when you pleased them, and punished you when you didn’t. Those who convinced you that your worth was to be decided by them, and not you, and never, ever, ever, you.

We come by this submission honestly, gradually, subconsciously, and hidden beneath a veil of “right”. Because it becomes so very important to us to always get things just “right”.

I discovered in the past year that my addiction to perfectionism actually had very little to do with getting anything perfect. It had far more to do with creating something so good that no one could find reason to tear it down. To belittle it. To shred the love I allowed myself to feel for it.

I feel this is a key moment for us in our descent to bowing before the opinions of others.

We create something, and we love it. We think it’s wonderful, powerful, dare we say, perfect.

And because we love it, we want to share it.

So we run to those we love, who we believe will love it just as much, and we show them, proudly, “Look! Look what I’ve done! Look what I’ve made! Isn’t it wonderful? Isn’t it beautiful? I love it!”

And one day, one time, someone says, “No.”

And perhaps they don’t say that one little word. Perhaps they pour a paragraph over what you’ve carried to them, covering it in various syllables and letters and criticisms, until it doesn’t look like it did when we picked it up and loved it.

Until it looks like something else.

Until we can no longer see what we loved beneath their rejection of it.

And somehow, some way, subtly, quietly, so imperceptibly that we don’t see it happening…something shifts.

It is no longer about loving it.

It is about ensuring they love it.

We are disappointed they don’t love it like we do, but even that is quickly overshadowed by the disappointment in ourselves at having failed to present them with something to love.

Tell me, wild one, at what age have you imagined yourself in this scenario?

Was it a child that appeared in your mind, with no conscious effort at all?

Or a tired, softly faded adult, wondering if they’ll ever get it right?

Let this be your guide for where the healing needs to begin.

And where, now, do we begin?

It isn’t about stopping ourselves from sharing what we love. We may perhaps consider becoming more conscious of who we share it with, but we don’t need to stop sharing it altogether. Mainly because the simple fact that you love something is assurance that there is, in fact, someone else out there in the great wide world that would love it also.

Conscious awareness of where we share our energy is part of it, yes.

But more than that, we need to find a place within ourselves where we allow ourselves to love something so purely, that there is no risk of losing that love when it is not reflected in those around us.

We have to be able to support our own loves so greatly, that we aren’t affected when others don’t share our joy.

This takes time. Dare I say practice. But it will take less time if you begin now, than if you don’t make that effort for yourself, and find yourself once again in that painful position of having failed at something at which you cannot possibly fail.

Shall I say that part again?

Stop allowing yourself to feel the pain of failing at something at which you cannot possibly fail.

Stop hurting yourself in deference to forces outside of yourself.

Learn that they are but the force of a leaf passing on a stream, and that the true force lies in you alone.

You command the winds and waters of your own world.

And if they don’t like it, they don’t have to. And you don’t have to make them. You don’t have to try and keep them. You do not have to beg them.

Let them carry on down the stream. And go back to jumping into piles of leaves yourself, where your joy and love may catch you, like little sprites that laugh with glee, holding onto strands of your hair, sitting amongst your lashes and dancing across your eyes.

Your joy is your own. And it is meant for you. All the love, music, magic of what brings you light and life and happiness, does so just for you. It is all for you. You get to keep it all for yourself.

It is an act of love to share that which we love with those we also love. It is natural to hope that those we love will also love that which we love.

But when they don’t, our disappointment is our first indication of just how much of our power we’ve given them. Just how much control we’ve allowed them to have over us.

You can realize that boundary and still love them.

You can use the measure of how sharply it stings to determine how exposed you’ve become to them.

It is an act of love, also, to choose yourself.

Where do you still submit?

Do you second-guess your clothes? That new makeup trend you want to try? A haircut you love but worry no one else will?

Do you hesitate to make purchases? To try and repair things?

Do you doubt your ability to solve a problem? Do you fear looking stupid, uneducated, unprepared, foolish, embarrassing?

Do you constantly worry you’re just wrong?

Do you fear never, ever getting it right?

I do, too.

And I am healing.

I am learning to forgive.

Not them.

Me.

For allowing.

I am learning to surrender.

Not to them.

To my joy.

For it is a gift.

I am learning to follow.

Not them.

Love.

For it is magick.

Who says that we are wrong? How are we to learn if we do not try? How will we find the edges of our boundaries, of our comfort? Those hedgerows that give us the option to stay where we are or venture just a little further into the Unknown?

Or, perhaps, run headlong into it, throwing caution, expectations, and all their unsolicited opinions to the wind?

Because I’ll tell you a secret:

They don’t know either. And they make mistakes. And they get it wrong, all the time. Just like everyone else.

The only reason they’re allowed and you’re not is because you allowed yourself to believe it was so.

And you don’t have to believe it anymore.

So I say unto you, wild one, you are enough.

You are enough.

Your love is enough. Your joy is enough. Your permission, your allowance, your truth, is enough.

Allow yourself to love something, just because you love it.

And when you love something, allow yourself to decide that it truly doesn’t matter if anyone else doesn’t love it. Because your love of it is enough.

YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.

You must be the person you love to be, to keep yourself from drowning behind the masks they force upon you.

No one else is supposed to choose You.

You, my love, must do that.

Do not put the keys to your freedom in the hands of anyone but yourself.

And when you want to give someone else a chance, place them in the eager, reaching, gentle hands of your inner child.

They will not lead you astray.

They will lead you to magick.

Where you, and all you are, is always, always, enough.

“The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” – Carl Jung

Here’s to You, wild one.