Permission to Begin

 "She gave us permission to begin without pretending we had already arrived.”

AHHH permission!  What a word.  We know it from our childhood.  We needed our parent(s) or guardian(s) permission to go to school in the clothes we chose, to not finish food on our plate, to go outside and play, to get our hair cut, to speak in a group of adults.  Almost every moment of our life occurred by permission. 

That's probably why I loved reading, especially after I was allowed to go to the library on my own and check out books without input from others.  On my first solo visit I ignored the stairs down into the kids section and headed in the the adult area on the main floor for the first time.  Not sure where to look, I decided on the mystery novel and fortunately lucked into a cozy story, not a gory one.  I never looked back.

As I didn't fit in well with the very strict religious community I grew up in, permission was also a barrier.  But I didn't feel like fighting in a public way. I just kept as quiet as possible about the thoughts going through my head and the passions I felt rising that would eventually chart my path.  I pushed hard to graduate a year early and fled 400 miles away to go to university.  Weirdly, I discovered others at that school knew me and felt obligated to keep my parents informed of every transgression.  Crazy. I would never have ratted on another that way.

I also discovered my move away from family and cultural permissions still had university permissions.  Once I graduated from there, I still didn't find a lot of wild freedom.  My boss and the company I worked for had rules.  And while not religious, there were still societal pressures and expected norms for young woman to follow. Some of the ones I found most ridiculous still persist subtly today.  And the worst offenders when it came to societyal rule enforcement were often other women.  

So how did I rebel?  Quietly and honestly not in particularly healthy ways.  Instead of giving myself permission to dig deep and try to come to a better self-image, I gave myself permission to go out 4 nights a week solo and dance in clubs. On weekends I stayed out partying until the wee hours, moving from regular clubs to after hours non-alcohol after hours clubs.  There were times I didn't get home until the sun was rising.  I wasn't into drugs as I was alone and careful, but alcohol seemed a safe choice as long as I was careful. I was completely sleep deprived and really didn't come to work my best self, but I always did well enough to keep my job.  Somehow I survived that era, but it could have gone either way. 

What I also didn't do was deal with my childhood trauma.  And I managed to not deal with that even though I finished a bachelor's in Psychology and did about a third of my MA in Counseling.  I find it scary that I could get that far in my education without anyone realizing what an emotional mess I was.  I was lucky to find a man who loved me as I was. That was the first step to healing. And we had 3 wonderful children who have become amazing adults despite my struggles. Honestly, I would have been so much better as wife/mother if I focused on healing much earlier. It's a regret I have to this day. 

Then came the time when my kids were edging into adulthood.  I was finally ready to focus on simply on myself. My best discovery was interviewing. I instantly loved it. At my first interview, the clouds parted, the air sparkled and I had goosebumps. I was instantly addicted.  I still struggled with a poor self-image, but this was my happy place. Doing interviews is where I finally realized I was who I was meant to be. Everyone shared stories completely different than mine. They had given themselves permission to live their best life, the one that called them, and didn't care what the rest of the world thought. I wanted that too.

That small starting point opened the door to me giving myself permission to begin. I was ready to heal. That meant mentors, that meant spending money on supportive groups and at one point serious counselling.  Along the way it I found healing is 2 steps forward and 1 step back.  Sometimes I felt totally in sync and invincible. Other times old feelings arose that hit me in those still fragile spots inside where memories of being told I was broken lived.  But in the end I am always moving slowly forward. 

I wish I had started giving myself permission to begin healing, to begin accept myself, and to begin reaching for the future that called me in my twenties.  Such is life.  Healing and growth come when two things come together - the right timing and being in a space you are ready to do the work.  It is only then you can finally give yourself permission to release what is holding you back, and the negative voices buried deep inside. It is only then you can embrace the person you are with love and the begin the work that is calling you. 

Today is the moment. If you are struggling to give yourself permissi to begin, then I will add my voice t
o yours.  You have permission to begin where you are in this moment. You don't need to feel ready. You don't need to have your shit together.  You only need to take that first step, then another, then another, then another.  Here's a secret. I am not sure we ever arrive completely. Life is a journey that continues until your time here is finished.  Just keep looking forward, treating yourself with respect, and listen to your heart. As one of my beautiful mentors used to say, "One step, one moment, one breath at a time."