Reclaiming Wholeness
I was a very shy and sensitive child, but you would never know that about me if you saw me on a stage. From modeling to dancing to singing and acting, I seized every opportunity to get in front of a live audience and tell a story.
Performing was my creative outlet for the bulk of my childhood. It was the space where I felt fully expressed and free. Stories expanded my belief of what was possible for me and gave me permission to be vulnerable, to be whole, and to be seen.
If I have learned anything from being a mother to three growing humans it is that our core needs and desires do not change much from childhood to adulthood (or maybe it’s just me). While it has been decades since I have stepped foot on a stage, the niña in me still desires to create and self-express through storytelling. She still needs spaces to be vulnerable and visible, to be whole, and to feel free.
Some of the most rewarding work of womanhood has been the work of rediscovering my inner niña. She got left out of my early adult years because I didn’t believe her shyness and her sensitivity could ever survive the “real” world. I neglected her in my decision making and goal setting as I hustled to succeed, but every time I got what I was chasing (the degree, the job, the promotion, the partner, the house) I kept feeling like part of myself was missing.
It wasn’t until the pause of the pandemic that I realized I needed to go back and get her. When I stopped hustling and suddenly had space to be still, I realized that she was waiting for me to reclaim her and affirm her belonging. She needed me to show up for her, to be her stage and her audience. And I needed her in order to be the fullest version of myself. Because her dreams are my dreams and her story is my story.
This is what reclaiming and pracicing wholeness means to me. It means integrating all the parts of myself I have left out or left behind, the parts I thought weren’t worthy of taking up space in the world so I suppressed them and shut them out.
It’s not always comfortable. Choosing wholeness can feel risky, like I’m jumping off a cliff and leaping into the unknown. It’s not the script for success that I was taught by mainstream culture to memorize and perform. It can be difficult to say yes to my inner niña and trust that her voice and her dreams are enough for the real world.
In these moments I have to remind myself that I am not alone. I have to remember the parachute of mujeres attached to my back. I remember that when I leap toward my dreams I am sustained by them and generations of mujeres before us who all lept toward theirs. I remember that womanhood isn’t a solo act, it’s an ensemble. And every mujer deserves to be seen.
That’s why I launched this blog and the monthly feature Mujeres, to share stories that expand our belief of what is possible for us and to build a community rooted in authenticity and wholeness. Because just like it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a parachute of mujeres to keep leaping toward the fullest version of ourselves.