Come As You Are

It's funny how easy it is to say "just be yourself," as if we could decide to do it one morning. Wake up, be free, be happy, be strong, be yourself, done. Except not really.

The older I get, the more noise I notice around being a woman. Be beautiful, be fit, be a good mother, be present. Look after your hormones, have sex, have a beautiful home and a good marriage and a career and a social life. Age gracefully, but don't look too old. Honestly, what is this world?

Sometimes it feels like the expectations only multiply as we get older, and I'm still learning how to let go of them. What people think. The version of me I thought I was supposed to become. The need to explain myself and get everything right.

I'm not very good at it yet. I'm still, as we say in Portuguese, engatinhando. But I'm trying, and maybe that's enough.

I also don't think we're meant to figure this out alone. We need each other: a friend who reminds you who you are, a woman who says "you don't have to do that," a bit more honesty and laughter and a bit less comparison. And maybe, on a bad day, a small reminder sitting on your nightstand.

A candle that says: come as you are.

Not when you've lost the weight, or when the house is perfect, or when you've figured out your hormones. Not when you're happier, calmer, younger or more successful. Now. Tired, messy, joyful, angry, unsure, exactly like that. There's nothing to prove here.

Maybe this is something we can practice together. Not becoming someone else, just coming home to ourselves a little more each day.