She’s a Rainbow

Part 2 of 2: Sad Picture  was moved from my office and has been replaced with this cheerful rainbow of colors. I’m reminded of a story and a song by The Rolling Stones, so read on, shiny happy people.

A good friend once told me that I was like a chameleon, adapting and blending in just about anywhere.  I suppose that’s always been true, even from the time I was a child.  I could put myself in the most uncomfortable and awkward situations and somehow manage to find a way to connect with someone in the room.  At the time, we had narrow definitions for your outward personality.  You were an extrovert or an introvert, and I suppose I identified as an extrovert at the time because that’s how everyone saw me.  There was always this underlying anxiety around social situations that I experience even today.  I was recently at a conference and didn’t know a single person.  I got checked in, scanned the room, found everyone talking in a group, and went to hide in the bathroom until I could regroup on what I was going to do next.  Sitting down at a table somewhere, like a normal person, didn’t occur to me. Leaving the event was on my mind, but that felt more ridiculous than walking up to people to introduce myself.  Low and behold, there was a lady washing her hands next to me.  One of the great things about being a woman is that you can freely compliment a complete stranger on her clothes, shoes, hair, nails – without it being creepy.  So, with the door open to a conversation, I was on my introverted extrovert way to making a new acquaintance.

I didn’t study a lot of psychology in school, so I might have missed out on learning the many factors, variables, and combinations of personality traits you could possess and express.  Those of us who studied other things like Accounting, Business, Finance, Engineering, – we take personality tests to understand ourselves, assign more labels, and try to make decisions based on what’s best for our particular “type”.  I may be a Finance professional by trade, but I deal with humans even more than I do with numbers.  And, we, as humans, are truly like a rainbow of colors. I’ve known people who outwardly express the basic 8-color box of crayons, a few who only operate with black and white, some who prefer shades of gray, and those of us who have the full 64-color box of crayons with the built-in crayon sharpener!  I’ve not always known what to do with all of these variations in the spectrum of my own personality.  I’ve relied on many of them to help me make great accomplishments in my career and as a single mom, and others I’ve kept completely hidden to secure my survival and belonging in the tribe.   For the majority of my adult life, I took an amazing amount of pride in the capacity of my discipline and tenacity to be professional at all times. Except for the times when I came unglued. Not pretty. Often justified. And, looking back on a few circumstances, completely necessary.

For over ten years, I was a Wonder Woman warrior, making the world obey my magic lasso, bonding with all of the other warrior women slaying it at work and at home.  I walked through fire and survived to tell the tale, and not only did I survive, but I NAILED IT at this game of life. I had a successful corporate career, I bought my own house, I was raising my kids, and I made more money than I had ever imagined possible.  I had a massive network of business associates, great friends, and I met the perfect man for me.  A few years ago, though, I started to notice how incredibly tired I felt. My body ached, my head hurt, my stomach was always in knots.  I tried to anesthetize it with alcohol, or staying busy, or adding more to my calendar. I was out there doing all the things, being everything to everyone.  And then the pandemic happened and brought my carefully curated Wonder Woman façade to a screeching halt.  I had to start closing this chapter of my life, and I’ve had nothing but time to do so.

It’s been three years since.  I’ve blamed the pandemic, remote work, politics, social media, my hormones, being in my 50s, and anything else I could point fingers at to avoid admitting that my feet are sore and singed from walking on hot coals for so many years. I’ve spent more money than I care to admit in an attempt to have someone or something outside of myself define me.  I’ve been running a marathon, a never ending one that draws me away from my own truth.  I’m out of breath, my fingers stiff from gripping so tightly onto the woman I think everyone else needs me to be. I’m done with being a chameleon. I want to freely and unapologetically be me, with my rainbow of colors. No pretending. No hiding who I am because it is intrinsically my birthright to simply “be”.  I don’t want to merely survive. I want to thrive. And be a woman at peace.  Have you seen a lady fairer?

Shine on, Friends,

Diane