My fingers are hitting the keyboard a little bit too hard today, because a few weeks ago something disturbing has happened. I have to share it with you, because there might be a girl out there that needs to read these words. And a boy that needs to learn the fucking lesson.
Let me start by saying that where I am right now is a place that I have worked very hard for, tooth and nail, many times looking like a complete ass or having my ankles broken by walking in high heels from one meeting to another to look motherfucking amazing. With countless hours of self-analysis, silence, tears, breaking down all the unnecessary bridges with my past life, sometimes hurting and disappointing even my mother and my father for it. No fear or hesitation. And I absolutely love the place where I am right now. Business, and life, are a fucking war. And my name is dedicated to the god Mars, so you bet your ass I am going to win it.
It’s a condition in which I am free. Have you ever experienced freedom? It’s the feeling that you encounter when you have everything you have ever wanted, no one can tell you what to do, you are not a slave for anyone or anything. Everything you own and every relationship you have is chosen, and people love you for your true self. A condition that makes your brain work so well that you have lots of dreams for yourself and the world that you know you will eventually make true. This is called happiness, I hope everybody on the planet can get to feel that in their lives. But if you are not happy or you don’t know who you are, don’t puke your dissatisfaction over someone else.
I have happened to be in a conversation with a man which started off very randomly. By looking at a woman dressed in eccentric clothes, while I was wearing my little black dress (what I call my power suit), he decided to tell me that I should be a little bit more courageous with my outfits, since I, as opposed to that woman who was in his opinion a little too fat, “could afford it more” to dress more visibly. From there, everything went south. And I must note that I barely said anything, I mostly listened. I didn’t want to interrupt that man’s stream of subtle machismo consciousness.
In no particular order, he asked (rhetorically):
- Do you know how much you are worth? You are much more than you are thinking right now!
- Why don’t you dress more expressively?
- Do you know you are different?
- Have you ever thought of the energy you radiate? You could achieve so much if you could only start channeling it.
- Why are you hiding all the time?
These are only the ones I can remember right now. This lasted for 2 hours. At some point he also ordered me to repeat a sentence, that he wanted me to say and I was categorically refusing. He thought that by repeating the sentence “I am different”, I would be automatically feel empowered, thanks to him I must assume. That sounded so stupid especially to my ears.
Up until a few years ago, “being different” for me has been a trauma. I couldn’t understand why people were constantly telling me I was “different” or “strange” and man, did I want to be just like anyone else and tried to make them stop saying that. This has also caused me pretty serious issues with depression, in a way that it still impacts my life from time to time, because I didn’t have any friends and I couldn’t talk with anybody about the topics that interested me. I have been a bullied kid over the years. Then one day I realized that being different was exactly what I was supposed to be, because what ordinary person has ever embarked on extraordinary journeys? One day, a few years ago, I realized I was a queen and I wanted to own my royalty.
But let me be clear: from that moment, I have NEVER tried to change myself into something I have never been. I have always been surrounded by extrovert, easy-going people who were so much better than me at making friends and look happy. From time to time, from friends and even family, I was asked “Why can’t you be a little more like them, like her?”. That’s precisely that man’s question and the question I asked myself too in my depressed years. Why can’t I be?? Now I know: because I AM NOT like that.
You girl reading this: you don’t have to be like anyone else. If you are an introvert, be the empress of your inner universe. If you have a pessimist mind, build parachutes instead of planes. If you want to walk slowly, make it the sexiest catwalk ever, while everybody else is busy hustling. We need you as you are!
You boy reading this: don’t EVER tell a woman to dress differently, decide that certain women can “afford” an outfit while others can’t, tell her she is hiding, tell her she is different. She already knows she is! If you want to empower women, don’t order them to repeat your sentences, ask them to disrupt this fucked up system in their own way! Support their battles, offer your help and not your guide, always spare a smile and not a judgement.
I know perfectly that I radiate powerful energy, because I have worked my ass off for that. I don’t want to express myself any differently than I am already doing, because that’s my personality and you have to accept that, if you want to keep talking to me. Of course I am not perfect, I am full of weird tics, I stutter, I am socially awkward, sometimes I do very stupid things that mess up my day or my month or my year. I have all the right to be stupid and imperfect. Of course I take any chance I get to continue my self-analysis, to hear what other people think, to know myself better and evolve. But at my own pace, by my own rules, with my own brain and body.
Do you want to see a picture of happiness? Here it is: