I’m in the process of reinventing myself. I’m not exactly sure what that means… but that’s what I’m doing. I’m reinventing myself with a new haircut, an upcoming makeup tutorial, some new clothes (I think I want to experiment with being a hat person), and a photo shoot on Tuesday to cap off the transformation. 

That was last week. I was SO excited about this HUGE TRANSFORMATION back then, but when I got home Tuesday night, after dying my hair a bright purplish; reddish brown, I caught myself starring at the ceiling with a thought circling above my head like those little dizzy spell birds in the old cartoons:

 What the hell does it mean to reinvent yourself? 

I don’t feel any different. Well… I feel a little different, but I think part of me was expecting/hoping for this huge crazy change.  I thought that changing my external appearance would fast track me towards letting go of all the insecurities and external tension that frustrates me to no end. I thought that changing my exterior reality would change my internal reality. That’s not exactly what happened.

Here’s the problem. Except for when I pass by a mirror, I don’t actually have the ability to observe any of these external changes. I can look down at my nails (which I’ve stopped biting and are now nicely shaped and finished with a strengthening polish — getting rid of this bad habit is actually a pretty big deal for me), and my new clothes (a mixture of baggy and tight that are making me look more and more like a yogi) and, in my periphery, I can see my now brightly coloured hair brushing the side of my cheek… but internally I still feel like the same often intense, perpetually curious, and slightly nerdy person. Although I think taking care of my appearance, celebrating and playing with my beauty, and finding joy in the external way that I express myself are all important, there was another type of transformation that I was really after. This external makeover was just my way in. 

When I was younger, I moved a lot. Every time I switched schools I saw it as an opportunity to start over. Any mistakes that I’d made at the previous school were immediately erased. I could reinvent myself. I could decide to be a different person. This never worked. Granted I was under ten (so I can definitely give myself a break), but I expected the external change to do all the work for me. Now, at 25, I’m not going to make that mistake again.

Introducing: My gratitude journal!

On October 3rd I walked down to the Chapters on Broadway and Granville, and I picked up this journal for $7. I made my first entry that day. On the top of the first page I wrote “What am I grateful for?” I have answered that question every day since. Tomorrow will mark one successful week of keeping up this new habit.

When I first starting writing this post, I thought I was going to write a list of all the ways that I was transforming myself internally… but (besides the journal) there’s actually only one thing that I’ve been doing consistently. That one thing is forgiveness and self-acceptance.

Every morning I have woken up and done what I needed to do to feel good that day. I’ve listened to inspiring interviews/podcasts, done yoga, practiced handstand against the wall, meditated, ate breakfast with my roommate, and spent a little longer soaking in the heat from the shower. Every day I’ve made a decision to smile. I’ve made a decision to treat myself with more respect and with more love. A quote from Shane Koyczan plays on repeat in my head:

“I will love myself despite the ease with which I lean toward the opposite.”

I originally went into this transformation from a place of lack. I went into it thinking of all the things that I wanted to change about myself. I thought these changes would make me more deserving of love and acceptance. What I’ve learned is that I’m actually just fine the way that I am. I don’t have to wait to be worth something. I don’t have to be accomplished to belong. 

I also learned that creating an external facade of perfection is not the way toward true connection with other people. I definitely write from a vulnerable place on this blog, but once I venture into the outside world I spend a little bit too much time measuring and planning my responses. What will they think if I do/say this? I’m very afraid of failure. I’m even more afraid of rejection.

“I managed situations and micromanaged the people around me. I performed until there was no energy left to feel… I stayed so busy that the truth of my hurting and my fear could never catch up. I looked brave on the outside and felt scared on the inside. Slowly, learned that this shield was too heavy to lug around, and that the only thing it really did was keep me from knowing myself and letting myself be known. The shield required that I stay small and quiet behind it so as not to draw attention to my imperfections and vulnerabilities. It was exhausting.”

That quote is by Brene Brown from her book “Daring Greatly.” I resonated with what she said so intensely that I almost felt like she was writing about my internal experience, and not hers. Reading this made me realize how alike we all are. I too am exhausted.

So my reinvention is not about putting up yet another brighter and more polished shield. This reinvention is about taking the shield down. We’re all just trying to do our best. I only want to continue to do my best in the company of other people who are also doing their best.

And if I fail?  Well, I hope it’s doing something that’s worth failing for.