I LOVE New Years’ Eve and Day. I would even go as far as saying it’s my favorite holiday because it’s a great time to look at your life and make some really awesome plans for your 365 days ahead. HOWEVER, it’s so easy to take planning a better life to such a crazy level of perfection that it becomes easy to fail, and feel bad about that! Today’s post is about a book I read that really had a major impact to how I view myself and my life. This book taught me a level of compassion for myself that I think everyone really needs to cultivate especially if you’re a perfectionist like me.
With Mother’s Day being a focus I decided to add one more post about a book I just finished that has really spoken to my soul as a woman.
I wasn’t taught how to embrace being a woman. I was raised to be quiet. I was raised to care for everyone else but me. I was raised that when people treated me badly, I should “just ignore it”, “get over it” and just accept it. I was taught that having any emotion other than happy and obedient was wrong, and I wanted to be a good girl…so I took that hook line and sinker.
Now at the age of 34, I realized that part of me really wanted to embrace being a woman, but not in the way that I was taught. I didn’t really know what that looked liked or where to even start remaking myself not just as a woman, but as a strong woman. I can’t tell you how frustrating it was to go on Google and not really find much on how to go about finding what it means to be a woman. It was like women knew something I didn’t and it was that “something” I wanted to learn about…but that something turned out to be that I hadn’t been programmed to embrace myself, and it was going to take a lot more than self-love and self-care bubble baths to do that!
While browsing the bookstore before a session with my therapist, I was drawn to this book called “Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D.” (which you can buy with a click on the affiliate link below). Not to sound dramatic, but it was a bit like pulling a sword from a certain enchanted stone. I knew in my heart that I had to get this and read it, and so I did and I was surprised at the deep levels this book spoke to me.
I am a self-taught artist. My parents were both artists, but that doesn’t mean they were supportive. To be honest, they were only supportive if I was helping out my dad finish his commissions. While I’ve been drawing all my life, I didn’t really see it as anything to be invested in until I moved here to Massachusetts. I’ve come a long way since my first bottle of Acrylic craft paint from my local craft store. I’ve learned about perspective, lighting, and color theory, but there was something that isn’t really taught.
Being an artist is a highly emotional endeavor and if all you’ve been told over and over is “it’s not a real job” or that you’re going to be the proverbial “starving artist” then you’re going to feel fear despite enjoying your passion. I am no different.
It seemed every time I got online I would see images of a blindfolded woman in the woods and the name of Bird Box popping up over and over. So I had to check it out…after all, that’s how I learned about Stranger Things and that was an awesome show, so I decided to watch it. What started off as watching a simple movie, turned into a much deeper lesson in how our culture views what being a hero is, and I think that on its own is pretty disturbing.
I guess this is a good time to say ***There may be spoilers in this post so proceed at your own risk***