Boxes. I never liked them. The idea of them, the containment, the restriction. In my younger days, I never boxed myself into one career, one relationship, one place to live. But as the years have gone on, I’ve discovered we have all been boxed in, inadvertently. Typically due to the labels placed upon us growing up, by and large by well-meaning family and friends. 

As I attempt to navigate the world as a mother to a toddler, I seek to consciously allow her to express herself without the need to label her. In a judgement filled world, it’s hard to get it right all of the time, and have caught myself calling her clever on a far-too-frequent basis, and though I realise these words will by no means destroy her, or the world, it could be so much worse right? I’m aware of the consequences of labels such as these. Someone who is clever cannot ever be seen to be a beginner or a failure at something. 

A strong lean toward perfectionism, and fear of trying new things and possibly failing, definitely runs rife in my family, and, in so many others that I see. Praiseful feedback may be much better than the alternative, which is why it’s so hard to stop. We think we are building confidence. But confidence comes from within, it cannot be bestowed upon you. Labels, however affirming, are restrictive at any age, but more so at such a tender age. To be boxed into such constructs, that you cannot be anything other than that which the world proclaims you to be, is disabling.

Ironically over the past couple of years, a series of words that describe my current ride has come through me from my higher mind, labels even! I use these like an omen, a mantra, something to reach for. Instead of feeling restrictive- they feel expansive. They come from me, the eternal part if you will. I implore you to invoke the same. To tap into that true essence of who you are, at your best. The trick is, this can only be done once you dismantle the boxes you’ve been trapped in most of your life. It’s recognising you were once the ‘sporty one’, the ‘messy one’, the ‘changeable’ one, and allowing yourself to be something else entirely, if you so desire. You get to create you. It’s undoubtedly the most enduring creative expression you have.

A friend once told me that the teddy I had given her son was a dancer because I was a dancer, full stop. Each teddy that he received was to have the profession of its’ giver. It’s a sweet concept, and very thoughtful, but I may have laughed out loud. Not only am I no longer a dancer, the idea that in this life I had been assigned one identity based on a period of my life seemed bizarre to me. Now I am “Mama”, and being ‘just’ a Mama is the greatest honour. Most of my current friends don’t know that I was a dancer. I don’t often feel the need to visit days passed. I am also aware that I am so much more than that.

What I’ve come to realise is this. I am a student, an eternal one at that. I am a writer, I am a philosopher. I am a teacher. I am a healer, and I am a counsellor. I am a painter, and I am a singer. I am a musician. I am a magician. I am a leader, and I am a follower. I am a pioneer, I am a warrior. I am a fighter, but I am a Lover too. I am a cook, I am a cleaner. I am a master planner and organiser. I am a treasurer. I am a saint, I am a sage, I am naive. I am a beginner. I am wise and I am childish. I am all of these things and so, so much more. Maybe I was meant to be flattered by my own title, you see I could’ve been a cashier, which of course I have been. But little would it matter because I would still be all of these things and more. I am a Goddess, and I am eternal. 

We all are.

Some labels just don’t fit anymore.