Why Do I Apologise for Just Being Me?
When I first heard the first lines of this poem by Marianne Williamson, it scared me. Me? Powerful? The book was published in 1996, the year I finished my education degree and was about to launch myself into the world. To travel. I imagined I could work anywhere but I haven’t. It was a failure to launch into the life of my dreams. Why? Because I was scared of stepping outside the norms. But lately, the words of this poem have resonated in my consciousness, as I feel like I’ve returned to where I was in 1996, at the threshold of something new and preparing to launch, but the same feelings are coming up. Maybe it’s a second chance.
“Our Deepest Fear
By Marianne Williamson
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us.
We ask ourselves
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small
Does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking
So that other people won’t feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine,
As children do.
We were born to make manifest
The glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us;
It’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we’re liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.”
I find myself moving in and out of confidence, in and out of letting my light shine and becoming the hermit that I apparently am. In my Human Design, I’m a 6/2 (Role Model/Hermit) manifesting generator, that is I naturally come in and out of role model and hermit, in and out of confidence, of shining bright and then retreating. But I find that I’m constantly apologising and berating myself for not being “normal”, for my desire to have internal time after a time of socialising and moving into an expansive space.
Why do many of us feel like we have to apologise for just being ourselves? I say sorry to others about a dozen times a day. For what? For EXISTING. I apologise for nothing of any significance - being in the way of a stranger in the supermarket aisle? For being two minutes late? Expressing my current truth, even if it is ugly? Or being too honest?
I have worked hard to become what the poem suggests that we all are, but I still apologise for shining, being a role model, holding incredible shame when I perceive I’ve inconvenienced others, or even worse, I apologise for success! WTF? I apologise for following my passions; who am I to be a storyteller? To be a fairy tale researcher? To step out of the conservatism of everyday Australia and be the multipassionate weirdo I am. My inner child is still an unseen and unheard nerd stuck in a sporting community, having to become part of the environment just to fit in. And I was good at sport, to a point. I appreciated the physical skills I developed as a result of it, and in part, it led me into a successful 30-year teaching career, but imagine if I hadn’t HAD to be ‘normal’ just to feel like I belong. As a result, my 50-year-old self is STILL apologising for being a little unconservative, and weird, and for being a complete nerd who loves learning.
These cycles of confidence and retreat apparently are normal for me, but what’s not normal is how I treat myself when I’m shining, in retreat, or when I make a mistake. A few months ago, I organised an incredible opportunity for eight storytellers at a festival, but when it came to it, I was unable to stay in the in-person leadership space. I collapsed under the weight of responsibility of making sure everyone had a good time, and I sabotaged it (admittedly, there were some hormonal issues at play) but underneath that, it was a deep self-belief that “Who am I to organise this? Who am I to stand in front of an audience and deliver a story? Who am I to be here when there are incredible storytellers and musicians around me?” I’ve now been sitting in that shame of what happened for months. It now colours every interaction I have with that community and my sense of belonging in it.
“I apologise for following my passions; who am I to be a storyteller? To be a fairy tale researcher? To step out of the conservatism of everyday Australia and be the multipassionate weirdo I am. ”
I understand this is a ME issue. There is nobody else responsible for my deep-seated lack of confidence, inexperience in leadership, my deep sisterhood wound and I am working with a professional psychologist to unpack it, however, despite the details of MY story, I know this experience is not just one that I’m having. Many people resonate with Marianne Williamson’s words at various levels of engagement because it’s not individual, it’s cultural. This issue is bigger than one individual, it’s social and cultural conditioning. If we step outside the group ‘norms’, we have a deep primal fear of being ostracised because we carry an innate desire to belong.
So what now? Here are seven things I came up with to help me move forward:
Learn not to say sorry all the time, is it needed?
STOP trying to be normal; embrace your weirdness, and find other weirdos.
Belonging is an inside job; do the work.
Acknowledge cycles of expansion and contraction; be kind to yourself.
Take up space, it’s safe.
Other people’s reactions to you are not your responsibility.
Be proud of who you are and how far you’ve come, your little Alyssa would be stoked to see who you are now.
BONUS: Re-read Toka-pa Turner’s Belonging book!
If you’ve read this far, thank you.
I hope that in some way my post helps you, too. I don’t feel belonging AT ALL when I try to be ‘normal’ and the masking is exhausting, so I may as well embrace my weirdness, stop trying to belong to the greater community, find my belonging within myself, live the life true to my dreams AND stop apologising for my one wild and precious life (courtesy of Mary Oliver).
~ Alyssa
