Crystal Carryin', Ripped Jean and Hoops Wearin' Kinda Girl

Jan 1

Crystal carryin', ripped jean and hoops wearin' kinda girl, thats just how I roll.

Thrift and vintage is where I vibe… making that which is old, new again; classic lines with a little somethin' extra.

Repurposing, refinishing and up-cycling. Consciously consuming and luxuriating in a time when things were built to last.

Beautiful; scuffs and snags and all.

Ancient soul, throwback heart; from a time long, long ago.

Finding my way back, trying not to look over my shoulder.

I’ve been here before you see; hopeful and idealistic, and while some may call it such, not naive.

Loving openly, sometimes recklessly, like a child who hasn’t known lifetimes of heartbreak.

Old school with a young heart.

To be me, means to be… it does not mean to fit in, nor be a part of the latest trends.

[Authenticity requires me not to subscribe; to labels, or your expectations].

I don’t belong in boxes and especially not in a cage.

Not object nor creature to be admired and kept; and most certainly not to be used for your entertainment or at your whim.

Catch me if you can, but never try to pin me into a corner. Your attempts to control and manage me like another one of your scheduled to do’s will not serve you in my presence.

My desire to be affirmed and loved does not outweigh my Soul’s need for expression and freedom.

And freedom to me does not mean without boundaries.

It means with choice.

It means you choose me and I choose you.

It means that I’m going to defy expectations.

I’m going to say things.

I’m going to put my big ass foot in my big ass mouth.

Sometimes, I’ll be wrong and I won’t want to admit it, or to face it, but I will.

And, I will probably cry because, well, conditioning and lifetimes of experience whispers in my ear the danger and consequences of being anything less than good and right.

Or maybe it’s just the innate fragility as a consequence of my caucasian experience.

Either way, I just don’t like it— being wrong that is— but i’ll come clean.

Because what I want more than to be right— what I need more— is for it to be true.

It being me; us.

I need truth like I need air to breathe.

How do I know this?

Contrast in hindsight

I didn’t even know that for years I could not seem to find my way to a deep and nourishing breath.

Drowning in oxygen deprivation. Distracted and numb. A prisoner of a laundry list of coping mechanisms.

Death by the asphyxiation of non-truth's, silence, and avoidance for the illusion of self preservation.

And with clear eyes to see, and a heart open to feel [perspective] I can never go back.

Truth tastes too damn good.

And now, I express myself in so many subtle and not so subtle ways;

Embracing my personality— my style— with the approach of “who do I feel like today?”.

There is almost always going to be a piece of crystal or floral print somewhere on my being, that’s as close to a certain consistency you will experience in my presence.

That, and love of course.

My clothes and accessories are only an extension of being that serve as decorative draping

Insights and clues into my mood, emotions, love of my body and all the ways I get to embrace and show up in my skin. Don’t you dare become too distracted or attached to the surface image as there is so much more than meets the eye. A walking contradiction; still and always exploring and uncovering the overlapping and seemingly disconnected aspects of my being.

It's been an unwinding process— coming out of hiding— to step into what is really me.

A juxtaposition of soft and gentle, feminine and masculine, natural with an edge.

And as I continue to show up in the world, I often still have these out of body moments where I feel that either i’m fucking crazy and everyone else is sane, or I know some big secret that nobody else has figured out yet. It doesn’t really matter which it is, but i’m often left feeling not of this world. Like my ideas— my patterns of thought, and means of making sense of the ever shifting organized chaos around and within— are as alien as me.

[Which galaxy was I dropped off from?]

It’s unsettling to be within myself, and at the same time, it’s home.

When I’m at home with me it feels like I am unable to be with the world and when I am with the world sometimes I feel at home but, more often than not, am left feeling something akin to standing on the outskirts of a crowd; of humanity. I’m there but i’m not really a part of it [the whole, that is]. Sustained connection feels like an elusive entity, an elite society that I haven’t yet been invited to join. Complete with secret handshakes never learned, cloak and dagger, etcetera, etcetera [you know, all that Skull & Bones type shit].

Decades on this earth and I still don’t really know where I’m from, where I belong.

But I know. I can feel it in my bones, even if I haven’t been there yet, [or at least have not resided there for a sustained amount of time]. Funny how that goes. What I do know is i’m being called; to lean into and learn what connecting the disconnect of me from the world around me is really all about. Finding my way through the metaphorical fire swamp that is authentic human connection and interpersonal relating.

Learning how to be with other fully, whole.

On the occasion that I reconnect with people who knew me before I was the me I am today, the more I realize in so many ways how I put myself on this self imposed island of [surrounded yet] alone. And at the same time there were so many ways others have held me at arms length.

Was it— is it— me? Or them?

Well… maybe it’s that I am them and they are me. The reflection off and of one another, back and forth like a house of mirrors where the truth and reality eventually become so distorted one cannot know the real from the fake. Truth from non-truth. It’s impossible to know where you stand when you don’t know what reality really is and ironically, it doesn’t actually matter. It doesn’t matter where you stand. Well it does, but then again it doesn’t. Because no matter where you stand, there you are. And if you aren’t standing then you are sitting. Sitting out life. And the danger in this— outside of the health risks associated with prolonged time with ass glued to chair — is, as the old adage goes, when you stand for nothing you fall for everything… so standing for nothing equates to merely existing without living. And in that, there is no meaning and definitely no honor… but I digress...

Or maybe i’m starting to find my way….in other words, just getting started.

So, let's take it back for a moment, to connecting the disconnect, otherwise referred to as reconnecting.

It requires a reconnection of self to learn how to truly connect with others. And it’s impossible to navigate your sense of self in the world when you have no sense of self. Now let's add another layer to this [for shits and giggles]. What if your sense of self is formed based on the reflection of the world around you? What if, you learn who you are through other? And if you isolate yourself from the others, you never truly learn who you are? A bit of a mind fuck actually isn’t it?

And I’m right back to questioning if I’m the only one who spins into oblivion with the contradictions and similarities; the seemingly disconnected, unrelated, maybe even irrelevant, connections...

And really, ultimately, maybe it’s as simple as saying and believing, "I am enough”.

[Let’s pause for a moment and let that one marinate…]

All of this to say that navigating the waters of being human, belonging in the world and to self is tricky business.

Simple… so stupid simple, but not easy. I’m still learning the balance and nuance of being and doing. Being with other and being with self. Being with self and being within self. Being within self and being in my fucking head and ego. Because there is a difference. You can be with self and be so stuck in your head that you aren’t really with self. All the layers... And this is what this crazy ass journey is about; peeling back one at a time to discover only to uncover a new paradox and trap to fall into. New ways to become enlightened and disillusioned or possibly just delusional.

As in now. I don’t even know what sort of corner I just wrote myself into but I will attempt at another time to work my way out. At the end of the day it doesn’t actually matter. Because this is what it’s all about. As insane as that even feels to type on this keyboard. It’s these little moments between the moments.

Going from being nearly in tears at a kind message from a former lover to having an overwhelming sense of gratitude just to be in physical connection with another, sitting in comfortable silence, next to me as I plug away here in my wacky little world of words.

It’s the moments, between the moments.

But what do I really even know? Everything and nothing.

I’m just a crystal carryin’, ripped jeans and hoops wearin’ gal who believes in the practicality of the world around her but also all the things that cannot be seen, explained or measured.

Desperately attempting to keep one hand rooted above ground as the rest of her being swirls and moves below in the place where she resides. Kore and Persephone; the innocent maiden picking wildflowers and the Queen of the underworld.

She who loves deeply and fully.

Both desiring and terrified of the one who will step into her space finally ready to love her, fully and — as she is now within— wholly in return. Who believes that people are inherently good and that there is so much more than what we allow ourselves to experience.

That it’s all incredibly meaningful or maybe meaningless, but definitely, every moment, every experience, is significant.

And that it’s irrelevant whether we are real or this is all an illusion, because regardless, love and connection are what [truly] matters; the eternal and the infinite.

So, again I’ll ask, what galaxy was I dropped off from?

This was a really fun piece I wrote a few months ago when I was in a particularly sassy mood and I’m so excited to finally share it as the first new post on nicolettebernardes.com (If you’ve been following along, this blog formerly lived on resilientlifecoaching.com) and after a lot of work, I’m so excited to launch this new site with the new decade! Woohoo (happy dance ensuing over here 💃🏽).

As always, I share these pieces of me, as an invitation for you to reflect within and maybe shine some lights on parts of you yet to be seen or acknowledged [that and to sort out the madness in my mind ].

I’m so freakin’ grateful for your presence here, thank you for reading and joining me on my journey!

If you have any comments or questions for me, please email me info@nicolettebernardes.com. Subscribe below to get my newest posts and insider info + follow my journey on IG.

With gratitude, and always LOVE,