4.14.25 // Allowed to Be

I’m learning that I’m allowed to just be something. That deciding is enough. That stepping into a version of myself​... even tentatively, even just once... means I am her.

You want to be a runner? Lace up. You already are.
You want to be a skier? Bibs on. That’s you now.
You want to be an artist? Grab a pencil, a brush, move your body, write what’s on your mind.
You want to be a friend? Send the text. Show up. Listen.
You want to be a leader? Speak up. Ask the hard question. Make space for someone else.
You want to be an adventurer? Take the first step out the door. Explore your​ block, your neighborhood.
You want to be a grounded​ source? Put your phone down. Breathe. Watch the sky change colors.
You want to be a joyful​ light? Dance in your kitchen. Say yes to the weird idea. Laugh louder than you think you should.​ Be "cringey!"

I’ve spent so much time circling the idea of it all​... running, skiing, being. Weighing each identity like it’s a contract. Wrestling between craving a label's clarity and recoiling at its limits. Wanting to belong somewhere while refusing to be pinned down. Wanting to be everything and nothing, all at once.

And really​, who am I arguing with? Who am I trying to prove or protect myself from? The faceless critics? The imagined internet jury?

Maybe the truth is this: you can change, become, unbecome​-  freely. You can try something on and take it off. You can evolve as casually as your favorite meal changes, as easily as your hair grows out or your style shifts with the seasons.

We are allowed to be fluid. We are allowed to be many things. Or just one, for a little while.