Dear Miss Independant

All the women who are independent

Throw your hands up at me.

-Destiny's Child

A genuine Thank You to women like Beyonce who have rallied us together to chant anthems such as these. Most of us happily follow along like "Hell ya! Preach! I'm an independent woman!" This whole movement of self prescribed (female) greatness has caused me to feel both empowered and yet cautious of it's effects-should it be taken too far. As true as it is; that we are capable and strong, wildly talented, gifted, and intelligent, there is a design behind humanity that calls for relationship. There is beauty in allowing ourselves to break in front of others- and allow people to come into our lives in an offering of encouragement, support and love. I've been considering how this badge of independence we proudly wear, should it get too big, could isolate us and derail the strength and intimacy of our relationships, with both our bf's and gf's. Additionally we may be confusing our need for others as a need for more stuff or more success. 

My intention is not to squash your spice or down your vibes. Should you hear me out, I'll continue. 

I've dabbled into this celebrated empowerment before. I was like "I don't need anyone to fix me!" and "I can open my own damn door thank you very much!" I started to develop this strength that felt really good. I even became interested in lifting heavier weights in the gym, because I wanted my body to represent the kind of strength I was feeling on the inside. Eventually I grew the strength needed to traverse the terrain of divorce as a young 25 year old girl, without anyone (but a rare few) noticing a sliver of brokenness throughout the entire process. People would comment 'You're so strong!' My inner warrior got me through a very strange time and in a strange and lonely way. My closest friends and family supported me with love and grace, but I didn't want to need them. I quietly healed in solitude; sleep by sleep, shower by shower and day by day. Today I look back, and I wish I would have gone home more and cried in my mothers arms. I wish I would have let my tears flow as they came- but my strength was in the way. I remember when one of my best friends, who moved in with me during that summer, breezed in and out of the apartment while I was packing up the dishes my ex and I had been given as a wedding present. This friend of mine is the sweetest, most loyal and compassionate person I know. I was struggling that day- with the memories and the loss. But I held it back and as soon as she was gone, my tears burst out and I fell to the ground. She had no idea how broken I was because I didn't let her know. My relationships with my friends and my mother missed an opportunity of going so much deeper because of my pride. (Love you mom. Love you Ash.) 

The year that followed I was on a mission to prove my point. I didn't need anyone. I lived by myself, I was killing it at work and I was dating a guy that was rarely in town. I bragged that I was the coolest girlfriend in the world because I was so NOT needy. He loved that too. However, perhaps inevitably, I began to desire some boyfriend things from him... like a card, some cuddle, a text? Or maybe he could come to a family dinner? Ha! He was like "Since when do you care about that?" He was right! I was Miss Independent. In my quest to channel my inner Sasha Fierce or Tay Tay, I was burying my desire for real relationship. Not that he was the guy for me anyway. I knew the universe was plotting something greater for me, but Lord did I have a lot of work to do before then. 

During nearly 2 years of stubborn, strong and proud independent living I was growing a personal yoga practice. I didn't know it at the time, but yoga was slowly breaking me down. I thought I was working on my headstands and perfecting my chataranga. Instead I was shaving down the guarding of my heart, piece by piece, practice by practice. I became curious enough to further my learnings and get certified as a yoga instructor. During my training we did some very uncomfortable things, like looking into the eyes of someone else as they stared back into yours for an unknown amount of time. Another was lying on your back, breathing in and out the mouth rapidly until you broke down either laughing hysterically or crying like a newborn baby. This technique is used to surface any unknown emotional scars or traumas (Not to be practiced alone). We did this twice in the training. The first time I held back- I refused to cry, it was a habit. Instead I giggled and thought that this was way too weird for me. The second opportunity with this technique, my tears won. I let it out. There I was, finally grieving in a far away place.  

The universe was seamlessly sequencing my ultimate love story. When I came home from 3 months in Costa Rica and the yoga training, I had no apartment, no car (I had sold it to pay for hostels and flights) and no job. I was broken again, but in a different way. The guard was down. My things were gone. Instead I desired raw and authentic relationships in my life. I was suddenly eager to grind out so many conversations with my family and friends. And I wanted to explore new people. I texted a boy that I was always curious for. I knew him well enough to call him a friend, but there was so much more to know. He had asked many times prior if we could go out. But I wasn't ready for him then. He still remembers me telling him over coffee that I didn't need a man to be happy. Oh Jamie. He deserved someone who wanted companionship, partnership and deep connection. After many humblings, I was ready to do that now. It's almost comical how needy I was when we started dating. He embraced my chaos and my unknown future as I explored what my next move was going to be. He gracefully let me borrow his car and listened to my ramblings into the early hours of dawn. He wanted to be there for me, and I let him. We fell in love and we are nearing our 1 year wedding anniversary and 4 years of sharing real life together. And I love it when he opens doors for me! 

When we are too strong to need others, we rob those who love us of the chance to support us. Our inner dialogue grows resentful because we start to believe that no one really cares for us, and it appears that even our loved ones aren't understanding our complexities. It's us against the world. Against the haters. It's a lonely way to live. It has been my learning that I can either enable stale relationships or nourish healthy ones. It starts with me. I work the balance between my inner warrior and my inner child. Because every now and then, Miss Independent needs a good cry. 

I proudly support women who have raised their voices in seeking equal opportunity in our society. May these voices prevail and continue to rally. Speaking of Beyonce, she recently was quoted in an article explaining that being a feminist doesn't require that you exclude the opposite sex. I admit to avoiding the use of this term, because I didn't want to be misunderstood. But of course I want equal rights and opportunity, and I love men too. Cool. I'm a feminist. 

My hope is that we continue to proclaim our capabilities and our strength with fierce voices, without reckless abandonment of relationship and intimacy. I'd love to hear your thoughts.