BECOMING A WILD WOMAN

 

 

As a young girl, somewhere between the ages of 5 and 7, I made a bold statement.

I remember my two older brothers and I were arguing, and one of them made a comment condescendingly saying,

“When you grow up you’re going to be lazy and no good”.

I remember feeling so hurt, and I didn’t understand why anyone who was supposed to love me would say such things. It is only as an adult I realize this is what others tend to do to the brave and wild. They go to great lengths to extinguish our fire before our flames can grow so large they get consumed by them.

Shockingly, my mother stuck up for me. In what felt like a rare moment I heard her say to me,

“No you’re not. You’re going to grow up to be a nice, smart young lady.”

At her words, I remember feeling a tightening around my soul. One that I knew wouldn’t do.

Confronting my mother’s statement, my small frame straightened and I announced,

“No I’m not, I’m going to be a wild woman!”

Wild? Did I even know what I was saying? Did I really want to be wild?

At such a young age, did I know that a song played across my spirit; one that would not be quieted by the everyday expectations of life? Did I know in order to feel a part of this world, to find an inner peace and calm, and to make a mark for myself and for all my kindred spirits, I would need to dance in full force to the rhythm of my inner song?

Was I aware of what dancing the dance would mean, and did I realize living a wild life would require me to stand alone in my truth?

In the time before I allowed my heart and soul to be tightly closed by mediocrity’s vice, yes, I think I did want to be wild. In fact, I think it was knowing these things deep inside the core of my being which made my child-self affirm my future so confidently.

Somehow, I still ended up falling into the grasp of the uninspired life. My dreams clouded, and eventually merged with the dreams of others. I found myself operating from a restrained, sensible, and disciplined place, one that had been made for me, instead of by me. While living this carefully constructed life, my persona eventually morphed into that image my mother described.

I most certainly did become a "nice, smart young lady". 

 

The song, however, still played.

It hummed along in the background throughout the empty successes, the ghost failures, and the misguided loves and heartaches. Eventually, I had given up so much of myself to the conventional, I was left feeling void and drained, like a ghost roaming eternity in search of a redemption it would never find.

 

I needed to find my way back to Wild. I needed to dance.

 

I don’t think it was one moment or decision that prompted the dilation of my soul. Rather, I think my untamed heart freed itself slowly, jaggedly, and painfully, like ice expanding and breaking apart the rocky enclosure. One painstaking decision after the other led to the undoing of my sensible persona and the uplifting, and releasing, of my natural spirit.

 

Slowly, the traditions I held onto so loyally and so dearly began to break away. I started to see through them, past the place where their false core resided, through the thin, filmy residue of the intentions that held them together, and into the heart of the lies they were built upon.

 

I began to confront my own false narratives which held together the fragments of the model citizen I had become. I stood face to face with my demons, and I broke my own heart several times along the way. With each broken heart I realized how much I had stifled my own free spirit for the acceptance of others. I waded in the pool of the heavy pain and regret of these realizations. I berated myself for not being my true self, and basked in the guilt of wanting to let go of everything I had built to get away from my natural self.

 

I allowed life to tell me wild was ugly and outcast, but the more I worked to let the thick, sludgy venom of conformity drain from my soul, the more I began to see the pure, inspired beauty of a spirit so naturally expressing itself in the world. I saw a dormant flower of winter bud into a vibrant Spring blossom.

 

Truth be told, the further I went down the path less travelled, the further those I had relied on proceeded down the well traversed path. As I stepped further along my path to authenticity, I saw the inauthentic friendships melt away. And, being honest, watching the happiness of the many while walking among the few caused so much doubt within me, the brilliant light centre I had begun to operate from flickered and darkness began to move back in.

 

But, the song played on, and each time it came down to choosing between sitting this one out, or dancing the time away… more and more often I chose to dance. For I believe, in the end, the feeling of living my truth outweighs that of living the false ideal of others. And, in the end, I have fallen madly, passionately, and deeply in love with a life that is lived purely from the heart.

 

I have fallen for me, one hell of a wild woman.


Lis Hubert is an information architect, co-host of the Adrift on Purpose Podcast, a writer and speaker who has never stopped dreaming of what might be left to discover about life. Born and raised in the New York countryside, her life has taken her around the world – including her current stop in the beautiful Columbia River Gorge. You can find out more about her at elisabethhubert.com | adriftonpurpose.com | Catching the White Salmon | Twitter


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