Feb 3

Feb 3 The Journey to Becoming

At thirty-four years old, I thought I had done all the soul searching and healing I needed to do to bury my shame and cultivate fertile soil for self-love, confidence, and authenticity. But I had a rude awakening during a recent session with my life coach, Menne. We were processing how my unaddressed childhood hurts were surfacing for me as an adult in inappropriate ways. I’m embarrassed to admit it now, but during the recent holidays, I became upset when I thought my sister had received a gift from our father that I did not. I made a snarky “I always knew you were his favorite” comment under my breath, using a voice I had been dismissing for many years. In an in-the-moment epiphany, I realized that this was me overcompensating for having been a passive pushover as a child when faced with confrontation.

Menne asked me to reflect on how I could have handled the situation with my sister differently and I suggested that I need to think before I speak, like Michelle Obama “going high when others go low”. Menne then asked, “What about Michelle Obama do you admire so much?” My face lit up because Michelle Obama is one of my idols and without much thought, I started to spit off a laundry list of her attributes that I love. Some words included on my list were “resilient,” “classy,” and “trailblazer.” Menne paused a long time, a small smirk on her face. This usually signals that a heavy message that will make my soul tremble is on the way. Menne asked, “What if everything you just said applies to you?”. I laughed and made a “What you talkin’ about, Willis?” face. Then, without hesitation, Menne said, “All the things you said I see in you.”

After I let that settle in, I felt tears streaming down my face. My internal critic kept asking, “Why don’t you see what Menne sees?” Like most of our sessions, I was given homework to do after this one to continue reflecting on the gems that were dropped during our time together. I had to dive deep into why I don’t celebrate myself and learn how to utilize my inner voice for healing, truth, and power.

But something that sounded like a simple assignment ended up feeling like a year’s worth of writer’s block. I had trouble coming up with things I was proud of, accomplishments that I wasn’t celebrating. I realized that I have had to hustle for so long, applying all my time to career, school, and family, that I have lost touch with who I am outside those spaces. I was lost and confused about my true identity.

As I started to get ready for bed, I cracked open Elaine Welteroth’s book, “More than Enough,” to the chapter entitled “Burning Out.” Wow, was this ever a divine intervention, because every word I read was speaking to the session I had just had with Menne. Welteroth, the Editor-in-Chief at Teen Vogue, shared that her own perfectionism and career-oriented lifestyle had led her to a similar crossroad to the one I found myself facing, having received word from her doctor that she had early signs of stress-related anxiety. She wrote, “In the process of becoming the woman I always wanted to be, I forgot that it involved becoming a whole person, not just the success story I had been trying to write my whole life.” Reading that line finally cemented for me the idea that I had allowed external distractions and maladaptive coping mechanisms to deter me from doing the real self-discovery work I must to achieve fulfillment. I was a recovering burnout counselor and educator and I had to make a drastic pivot to start honoring the hidden pieces of me that have been buried for so long. Pieces like my love for painting, writing poetry, hiking, journaling, or just plain daydreaming.

“There is no glory in a grind that literally grinds you down to dust.”

Toward the end of the chapter in Welteroth’s book, she references a self-care panel on which Eve Ewing, an academic, writer, and visual artist said: “There is no glory in a grind that literally grinds you down to dust.” After finishing the book, I made a silent commitment to always honor myself and lean into things that make me uncomfortable, no matter how scared they might make me. I don’t want my legacy to be a pile of dust. I want it to be the story of a woman of color who, at 34 years old, re-wrote her life, fell in love with herself over and over again and went on a journey of - to quote the title of my idol Michelle Obama’s book - “becoming.”

I know I want to share this small testimony with others and write down all of the feelings that have been coming to the surface for me of late. So below is a poem I’ve written called “Becoming Me.” It’s dedicated to the “Little Erin” in me, and I hope it speaks to the little child in you.