It’s okay. Be free.

I wrote something last week that got a lot of unexpected attention. Apparently, a lot of people could relate. I want to share it and a little backstory with you in case you can relate, too.

This was one of those pieces that popped into my head almost fully formed. It doesn’t often happen like this, but when it does, I grab the nearest pen and paper and capture what I can before it disappears.

I was at my kids’ swim lessons – our first time back in a little over a year since having my third child. I watched from the parents’ section with fond memories of lifting and twirling my then 2-year-old in the baby pool.

Then I remembered…

I used to feel so self-conscious then. I’d rush in (late), feeling frazzled and totally inadequate. And there I sat, over a year later, carrying that same not-good-enough feeling with me. Different details, same pressure.

In that moment, I couldn’t think of one thing that was actually wrong with me then, just as I’m sure a year from now I will look back and wonder why I was so critical of myself today. The hardest part was realizing that I’ve lived this way for as long as I can remember.

Are you going to spend your whole life this way, I wondered.

I apologized to myself and vowed to make a change, and I pictured my former self finally at peace.

And I wrote this:

Words to a younger me:

I saw you dancing in the driveway.
You moved without restraint,
as if you’d only ever danced.
The music couldn’t rival your laughter.
You looked at me and said, “I am finally free.”

I saw you driving that old, red Explorer,
your fingers floating on the air
as you turned the corner.
The summer breeze couldn’t rival your grace.
You looked at me and said, “I am finally free.”

I saw you sitting by the kitchen window,
eating a peach and reading.
The sunlight couldn’t rival your radiance.
You looked at me and said, “I am finally free.”

I saw you in my reflection.
Your eyes sparkled with the stories of our past,
and your mouth held the promise of answers to my questions.
My insecurity couldn’t rival your conviction.
You looked at me and said, “You are free right now, my love,
if you choose to be.”

I submitted it to a weekly readpoetry.com writing challenge and forgot about it until days later when I checked back for the next prompt. That’s when I discovered that the little piece born at the swim school and written on the back of an appointment reminder printout had been selected as their featured poem. Glad I grabbed that pen and paper!

It makes me happy to think back to my younger self finally feeling as free as I wish to be now and telling me, it’s okay. Be free. I want the little girl in me, the teenager, the twenty-something, and the frazzled mom in me to be free and happy. I want the me in this moment and the me tomorrow and 40 years from now to be free and happy, too.

So, this is my promise to them (and me):

I will keep getting to know myself. 

I will show myself love. 

I will follow my curiosity and the bursts of inspiration that hit me on random Sunday mornings at swim lessons. 

I will imagine what could be and write it down on the nearest pen and paper. 

I will keep creating for as long as it sets me free. 

Right now, I’m doing this by writing a new book, Love, Child. Love. that’s very much about the healing journey of trusting in our own unfolding. (If you missed it a couple weeks ago, you can find an excerpt here.) I’ve got a children’s book idea incubating, too. And I’m keeping my Spark Shop updated with pieces like these:

Need to let something go? I made this for you: