The Thing About Our Stories

I'm not my story. I'm not your projection.

~ Catherine Just

You are a contradiction. An iteration upon iteration upon unfolding upon fluctuations of being.

Whether you write for a public audience or just have private chocolate cake dates with friends, you have full permission to vibrate as you are in that very moment that you are sharing parts of yourself.

And tomorrow, you will be different.

You wish it could be neat and concise, like a resume for your personality. Others need us to be predictable and steady and prefer we don't make waves with unexpected behaviour.

But I call bullshit, darling.

The truth is that we are not capable of being a well scripted "About Me" page that lasts beyond the moment it is written. (If you have ever visited my "About" page on the blog more than once, you will notice that it changes often, because I am always evolving.)

The stories we tell, the words we write, the photos we share, and the tweets we publish are just split second captures of our experience, composed of emotions, hormones, diet, weather, time of day, the effect of the previous moment and the expectation of the next.

If you don't value transparency, it's likely that you are only sharing the parts that are polished (and that's ok), but this can skew perceptions even further. Have a melt down or get angry and the outside world is shocked with confusion and you are left to judge your own actions, rather than embrace them.

As a writer with a blog, I experience the projections (theirs and mine). Life Created Blissfully gives a certain impression, but the reality is that I chase bliss more than I experience it.

I can be bold in my writing, but terribly shy in person, avoiding eye contact and stuttering my way through conversations.

Smart people intimidate me.

I am right-brained and creative and distracted by daydreams, but I am also A-type, detail driven, task-oriented.

I have a temper (of course I do), I'm stubbornly stubborn, and I have zero patience.

And what you think of me, is none of my business.

Bold? Yep. Liberating? You betcha.

We become guides for others when we give it all up and when we allow ourselves to be seen. We learn to find our own grace in the allowing and our permission becomes their permission.

We might lean into white space in one moment and run after chaos in the next. (By the way, balance is an illusion, but we'll save that for another day).

And this is gorgeous living. It's truthful and soul-deep and so real that not everyone is going to be ok with it, and that's ok, because they are not their story and they are not your projection, either.


This story first appeared in my weekly love letter, Bare Bones, where I share original content and resources.