i’m shaky as i write this.
i don’t know if it’s the glass of wine, or tired muscles from dreading my first nine locks, or if it’s the unsteady steps i am taking toward freedom.
i am free. i know this.
but there is a cost to living out this freedom, to choosing it – over, say, people-pleasing.
and i have been unable to make that leap.
but tonight, i think it finally clicked. maybe.
tonight i danced barefoot on my front lawn under a full moon. it occurred to me more than once “what the neighbors would think/say”, and i did it anyway. this is a new thing for me.
then i came inside, and with this song playing loud in my soul, i began the slow work of dreading my own hair.
i have been waiting, and i think part of me was waiting for permission from someone, in the form of agreeing to help create these dreadlocks i have been wanting for months. i hoped some kind of community would be available to me, their grace and acceptance and time and muscles.
but tonight, as i was consciously choosing to step into my purpose, into freedom, it became clear that it was time.
i am home alone this weekend, my boys at their grandparents, so i can engage with the Secret Rebel Club’s virtual retreat. my husband doesn’t even know, and here i am knotting my hair up beyond recognition.
and i love it.
i feel beautiful.
i feel like me.
i feel free.