Oracle ✥ Artist ✥ Author ✥ Time Traveler

I don’t mean to make it look easy

Hi, I’m Talyaa

Hi, I’m Talyaa and I’m rewriting my About Me page.

Hi, I’m Talyaa and I’m rewriting my About Me page because I realized something. My About Me is not about me.

It’s about the Me I wanted you to see.

So, let me start over.

Hi, I’m Talyaa and I am an Image Maintainer. I care what you think about me. I care so much that I don’t even realize what I am doing when I carefully craft what I say in a way that is I want you to think about me. Or glosses over the parts I don’t want you to know. Spin. I’m a spinner.

Here is a story

Today I visited communicatrix, the site of Colleen Wainwright. I don’t remember when I first ran across Colleen. I am guessing it was in 2007. Probably on Twitter. I was a superduper active blogger then, with a blog called New Age Bitch, and like a lot of blogfolk I interacted with tweeps in the Twitterverse.

[insert Note Of Irony here: this story is about using my real voice, and here I am talking a time when I completely disguised and hid my identity on a blog I wrote because I was afraid that my clients would read words there like FUCK and ASS and then not want to pay me sums of money to channel messages from an entity made from invisible, discarnate spirits. God, I love irony.]

Back to Colleen. We might never have had actual interweb interaction. But somehow we are also Facebook friends. I have more than 4500 Facebook friends (and you, too, can be one! Friend me! And please also write me a sweet note telling me who you are, otherwise I will probably not friend you back, sorry), so you know that all my 4500+ friends are like best buds, right? Well, no. Most of them, truth be told, I winnow out of my news stream. As  do you, probably. Hope I didn’t give anything away, here.

Hence Colleen not being in my radar  for a while. And then there was today. Inner Voice told me to click through to her FB Timeline. And then to her site. And then read her bio. And I did.

As I am reading Colleen’s bio, I am thinking to myself, This woman rocks. She talks about herself unapologetically. Authentically. It feels really good.

And then. I wish I did that.

A few minutes ago I was washing dishes, sobbing at the sink.

Hands in soapy water, I realized how angry I am — how devastatedly angry I am that I have wasted 49 fricking years in being not-me. Instead I was a shell of a woman. Like a fucking lame chameleon.

This shell of a woman I carry around on my back weighs at least 27 tons. I can feel it. It’s crushing me. Crushing me into dust.

Risk

And then the day came,

when the risk

to remain tight

in a bud was more painful

than the risk

it took

to Blossom.

—Anaïs Nin

I weigh the options in my mind.

Option #1. Continue on as you are. It’s safe (?). Familiar. Don’t tell people the ugly parts of you. Don’t tell them your fears or your triumphs. Be a cool cat. So chill. Run everything you say or do through a filter of what you think people want to hear or know. Easy-peasy. And it’s safe (?).

Option #2. Let the blossom unfold. Let it go, the weight. Let the shell, the façade, crumble into a zillion particles of dust. Blow them away with your super blowing-away powers. Emerge, maybe not shining and clean, but…intact. Whole. Alive. And true.

Safe vs. Scary. Heavy vs. Light. Hidden vs. Alive.

My Life As An Apology

[disclaimer: I wrote this whole post in my head while I stood there at the kitchen sink, sobbing like a ninny. The post you read now is not that post.]

If I were a dickwad, I could be okay with granting myself one of my secret wishes, which is to live for one day as the kind of person who walk around not caring or being aware of her effect on other people.

I really wish I could let myself be a dickwad. For a day. I think it might feel really good. Free, you know? I secretly suspect those people have way more fun than me.

But noooooo. I have to be one of those Sensitive People. Who feeeeeeels stuff. And who caaaaaares.

You know why I care? It’s not so much about the people.  The icky part of all this for me is that I care what you think because I want you to think I am awesome. And I also don’t want to get in trouble.

I suspect that Little Talyaa used to get in quite a lot of trouble. And then she learned not to. And she has said “I’m sorry” ever since.

Fucking inauthentic apologies.

Where do I go from here? Or, how this story ends

Here are some things I want to do:

  • Be a singer-songwriter (must learn guitar, check)
  • Travel to all the color-filled places of the world
  • Visit every place on my Pinterest board 
  • Give a TED Talk.
  • Fly in a glider piloted by my soulmate (metaphor alert)
  • A massage a day keeps the woman really happy
  • Study with Mongolian shamans
I think many of us live only part of a life.

I am angry because I have lived 49 years as only a small part of me. And I painted myself into a corner. A very small corner. The whole rest of the room is filled with TED Talks and gliders and colorful Indian spices arrayed in a jumble of sightsoundcolor, but I’m here in my corner.

I don’t yet know how this story ends. I may not yet have reached my Anais Nin moment. But it’s coming. Soon.

Stay tuned for a new About Me page.

And while you’re at it, why don’t you write one of your own? And then send it to me. I want to know you — all of you.

5 Comments

Join the conversation and post a comment.

  1. Kahuna - Your Soulmate

    Yum! I want the authentic you – the new age bitch, the crying goddess, the mess up when you mess up, the joyful singer when you are joyful, little Talyaa when she wants to play, the Big Talyaa when little Talyaa is scared and needs to tell her soulmate about a boundary or hidden desire. I want you.

    Will the REAL YOU stand up?

  2. Lila

    I just wonder how folks can live with their shelves for so long. When I was 32 it really started to feel like a self-built prison which also made my real-self very weak, shrinking in size to the point that I almost lost myself. At this point I was prety much a shelf with nothing inside. And I had maintained my shelf only about 15 years or less!

    I really didn´t want to give up my shelf (or ego), but in a series of events which also include an important encounter with a soulmate, it was crushed. It was the most painful thing I´ve ever gone through (even a 30 hour childbirth was a sunday walk compared to that!), but I´m grateful that I did it. When the shelf was gone, the tiny little Self started grow rapidly, filling every cell in my body with warm, loving and powerful energy.

    Now I have lived 12 years as an authentic me. I could write a book or two of these years, because they have been more eventful than my 33 years before that. There have been success, joy, passion, love, pleasure, learning and mystical experiences, but also conflicts, betrayal, failures and hardships. During the hardships it would be tempting to go back to the shelf, but during these periods I have decided to use other methods to deal with disappointment and negative emotions. And that´s very educational to the soul!

    People think that their real self is weak or that their´s something wrong with it, but that´s not true. When you stop giving the car keys of your life to your ego and put the real self to the driver´s seat, it start´s it own evolution process which also modifies the outer life pretty much. It is not necessarily an easy path to take, but at least you experience your life fully!

  3. wildgoddess

    That’s beautiful, Lila. I love the car-keys analogy!

  4. Bettina Fischer

    Thank you for this Talyaa, this is very honest to me and as I read the article the first time I was surprised, because I feel that you are telling and showing us who you are – I can see it in your new/changed website, your life story and in articles like this one. For me being truly myself, is an ongoing process, not a decision, it is like leaning, it never stops. I guess many of us have moments like you did, where we feel suddenly unhappy the way we are, measuring us with someone who is/does something already, we thought we should be/doing already too. They are our reminders and mirroring us what we should look at and work on.

    You did, with this article, for me too.

Talk To Me!