Wash out day 3 ~
Today I had a deep realisation about how I’m perceived—especially when I choose to share something I’m moving through. I noticed that certain people, when I open up, respond as though I don’t already know what I’m talking about. As if I haven’t been living this path for over two decades. As if I’m new to my own process.
I know they care. I know they love me. But it still feels off. It diminishes me—not intentionally, but it does. And I’m noticing that it only happens with specific people, which tells me there’s still something lingering in my self-concept that invites that dynamic. Maybe a thread of people-pleasing. Maybe an old mask of relatability.
I am the embodied teacher and the ever-evolving student. I trust my voice. I trust my knowing.
I don’t need to prove that I already know. I live it.
I release any residue of needing to be seen to validate who I am.
This is the line I walk now:
Holding space for my own growth while being deeply rooted in the truth of who I am.
It’s not either/or. I can be in process and be powerful.
I can be vulnerable and whole.
I can be witnessed without being rescued.
The Old Mask of Relatability
This mask makes me slightly dim my brilliance, edit my language, or lower my frequency to make others more comfortable. It’s that subtle shaping of how I share so I stay “relatable”—even when I’ve outgrown that version of me.
How it has shown up:
Downplaying my embodiment by pretending I’m still “figuring it out.”
Turning lived wisdom into casual reflection so I don’t seem too certain.
Softening my light so no one feels threatened or left behind.
Seeking validation in the form of “relatable feedback,” when what I really want is to be seen as whole.
But I’m not here to fit in.
I’m here to shine—with clarity, kindness, and unapologetic wholeness.
The Thread of People-Pleasing
It’s subtle, but present. It whispers:
“Don’t let them think you’re too powerful—they might pull away.”
“Don’t share the full truth—they might not understand.”
“Tweak how you speak so you stay likeable.”
Even in moments where I’m sharing truth, I see how I sometimes shape it so others feel comfortable with my process. I seek to maintain connection—even if it means downplaying my own knowing.
But this is an old strategy. One rooted in a younger version of me who thought:
“Connection is safer than truth.”
And I don’t live there anymore.
My Mirror Moment
What surprised me the most?
I see where I do this with others, too.
I’ve projected onto people I love when they were in process—maybe because I didn’t know how to fully hold their evolution without offering insight. Maybe part of me needed them to have it all together so I wouldn’t have to feel the discomfort of uncertainty.
This awareness humbles me—and frees me.
Because now I can choose differently.
What I Can Say (if needed):
Soft & Clear:
“Thank you—I know you’re coming from a caring place. I’m just sharing right now, not looking for insight. I trust how I’m moving through this.”
Direct & Rooted:
“When I share something I’m experiencing, it might sound like I’m asking for advice—but I’m actually grounded in my process. I’m not lost, I’m evolving.”
Playful but Powerful:
“You know I teach this stuff, right? I’m just letting it breathe—not outsourcing my knowing.”
Internal Reframes (for silent moments):
“This is their lens, not my limit.”
“I revise this moment into one of empowerment and connection.”
“I don’t need to correct them to feel seen—I already see myself.”
“They’re responding from care, not clarity—and that’s okay.”
Sometimes I rewrite the moment in my mind:
“I imagine them saying: ‘I trust you. You’ve got this. I see your strength even in your processing.’”
Just like that, I return to my centre.
My Truth Now
I’m no longer shaping my truth to protect others from their discomfort.
I’m no longer softening my knowing to keep the peace.
I’m no longer performing humility just to stay relatable.
I don’t need to over-explain to be understood.
I don’t need to be witnessed to know I’m real.
I don’t need to play small to belong.
I rise because it’s who I am—
not because I need to prove something.
I evolve because I’m devoted to truth—
not because I’m trying to earn my place.
Let me be witnessed in my fullness: the teacher, the student, the ever-becoming.
Let me meet myself there first.
And let those who can truly see me—see all of me—walk with me.
