Amnesia

I’m in a little writing group. We met on Wednesday. And when we meet our group starts with a 10-minute free write, where you just put pen to paper and keep writing til the timer goes off.

Anyway, on Wednesday the prompt is about amnesia. Because it’s free write it’s not great writing, not even good writing…just writing what comes to mind. And writing on Wednesday about amnesia elicits this…

“And what of our identity? What state of amnesia do we exist in? Do we know ourselves beyond names and roles? Do we remember the little girls we were…would they know the women we’ve become? Does amnesia keep us from our true selves?”

So that’s Wednesday and on Thursday it’s still rolling around in my mind. And I remember the book “You Are A Badass”…that book makes the point that there’s no becoming a badass, you just are. By being you.

And then I start thinking about my own struggles with all of the same. 54 years old and I still struggle. Can I do this? Should I try that? Am I good enough? Smart enough? What will others think?

I’ve learned enough and know enough now to know I don’t need anything more…I don’t need another class, I don’t need to read one more thing, do one more thing, ask one more person…I am not inadequate. The only thing I need to do is remember who I am. Remember that I have gifts of greatness, remember that I am a badass. My own kind of badass.

I once knew this. But…amnesia.

Before I knew the rules and roles, before I learned what normal was supposed to be, before I was shushed, before I got the glasses I thought made me ugly…I was just me. And every fundamental gift I have now I already had then. It was in there.

Before I thought I wasn’t good enough…I knew that I was.

And in moments of doubt, I would do well to run towards the girl that knew…I need only dive deeper, remember and find more of her, embrace her…because she’s the badass.

And all of this has been bobbling around in my head…

Maybe much of self-doubt is amnesia. Forgetting what we at some point knew and believed about ourselves. Back when we didn’t even think about shit. Back when we just were…before amnesia.

In moments of self-doubt…moments when we’re not sure of what to do…or how to do it…maybe we just need to snap out of the amnesia…and find her. Remember her. Not doubt her. Empower her. She’s got this.

For a while now I’ve kept this photo in the pocket of my bullet journal…pulled it out yesterday…hadn’t thought of it as such…but she’s my reminder.

Feels uncomfortable to write this…seems a little weird…but truth is, I am. She was too…she didn’t worry about that as much as I do. She was a badass. I am a badass.

You are too…

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