You have a choice.

I receive you in your humanity. 

Fall down. Get back up. Learn. Try again.

I do not fault you for your uncertainty.

I do not fear your chaos.

I’m here. Arms open, ready to receive you as you are.

Because who you are is enough. I know that may scare you, even allowing yourself to think for a moment that could really be true. Not only because up to this point in your life you have been reminded constantly how you are falling short; how you need to be or do something more or less or different than what you are in order to be accepted, to be given the love you so desperately seek to feel.

Those subtle and not so subtle messages have made it hard enough—damn near impossible even— to stop and rest. To be grounded and at home within. It’s hard enough to be accepting of your true self when the world is telling you that who you are is somehow inherently wrong or flawed.

But also, this message: "You are just enough”, it terrifies the part of you that has been conditioned to believe you have to do— to strive and to perform— in order to belong.

It challenges the lessons instilled that you have to sacrifice and betray Self in order to be safe and loved.

Because if in a moment, you were to stop all the striving and performing and seeking the “good job” from outside of yourself, and allow the truth of your inherent worthiness to permeate your entire being; if you could open up your heart and allow yourself to acknowledge that who you are has always been enough, that there is nothing you need to do or be more or less of in order to be worthy of the love, belonging, and connection you have always desired, there would be no more barriers in the way. 

In the way of what?

Of your truth. Of the clarity and presence and trust necessary to live in alignment with your unique purpose in this life. Of a sense of fulfillment. Of your empowerment.

Of your freedom.

If you were to recognize that you are already worthy, then there is nothing standing in the way of you having that which your heart so deeply desires.

Except you. You are the barrier.

And once you see that— once you realize that life isn’t just yanking you around against your will— your eyes will be opened to the recognition that you have a choice.  You get to choose how you show up and how you react to everything that you are presented with in this life. That is what you can control. That is all that you can control.

And to recognize that you have a choice offers you the invitation to get off the train of disappointment, victimization and isolation and requires you to take personal responsibility:

Of your choices to this point.

Of who you are as a result of those choices.

Of your emotions and reactions to your emotions.

Of the fear or shame you feel for the perception of weakness or inadequacy for having emotions; for being vulnerable.

It would require taking responsibility for your inescapable humanity.

[The collective paradox: we fear, repress and shame ourselves for being exactly what we were perfectly designed to be.]

And that can be overwhelming. But it could also be simultaneously empowering. Or maybe just disarming. Definitely unfamiliar. Yet maybe, just maybe a little something like a truth that cannot be denied if you were to sit still with it for a moment and allow it to sink in.

Maybe it feels a little dangerous to recognize that personal power has always been within reach and that nobody dictates that but you. Or maybe it feels like you have been led astray and you’re angry that it’s taken you this long to realize, or that nobody told you that you have had a choice all along.

[Maybe you are afraid of feeling angry or feeling anything at all.]

Perfect. Feel that, whatever that is.

Letting that truth rise within, when you have lived your whole life under the paradigm of power being something that must be given or taken, when everyone in your life up to this point has operated under that same belief system, and when all you know is the feeling of being controlled and emotionally manipulated, the shock of that shift can feel like everything is crumbling beneath your feet. Like the ground is literally falling out from underneath you, and at any moment, you could be free falling into a dark hole of oblivion, of unknown and uncertainty; falling to your death.

That’s what it feels like, or at least, that’s what fear tells you it will feel like if you allow yourself to recognize the role you have played in this all along.

And I’ll tell you now, if you were to decide to embrace it— to lean into that visceral discomfort of your current paradigm crumbling around and within you— this is exactly what happens. You will die. A metaphorical death that is, in order to be reborn into the Truth.

Liberation requires death. You must shed that which holds you in suffering and paralyzed by fear. That which has left you feeling unstable on your own two feet the majority, if not your entire life. That which has kept you small. This all must die away. 

[Who are you without the comfortable confinement of your own disempowerment?]

Do you know? Are you willing to take the risk to find out?

Falling into the dark absolutely will feel scary because it’s unknown. And unknown is a discomfort that feels a lot like danger. But what if you wrote a new narrative about death, darkness, the shadows? A shift in perspective is all it would take for the cold, lonely and scary darkness to become your period of incubation, free floating in the protected nourishment of the womb. Growing, supported and preparing to enter a new life. The darkness and all that comes with it, could be a gift for you. A caterpillar into chrysalis; dying off one form in order to complete the transformation into a butterfly. It’s all in your point of focus. Another choice that is yours to make.

From what perspective will you witness this transition?

You get to choose.

Are you going to grasp to the old, comfortable suffering? Stay in defensive maneuvering and under your favorite suit of armor, waiting for the next attack from the world around you to come, all the while clinging to and feeling the familiar pain of separateness, isolation and loneliness under the illusion of control you are so desperately attempting to maintain?

[It is comfortable, it will feel safer and easier.]

Or, are you going to surrender? Let the ground beneath you quake, feel the fear rise and lean in. Can you let the darkness [the unknown] wash over you and take you exactly where you need to go?

[Letting go for the opportunity of a lifetime: experiencing true freedom— the liberation of You.]

You choose.

You can stay “safe”. Fearing what you may lose if you risk opening yourself to the vulnerability required for the love and connection you so deeply desire to unfold. Taking your habitual defensive stance and not allowing anything close enough to you to ever hurt you again.

Or, you can allow the cracks you’re already feeling within— from the lifetime[s] of disappointment and pain— to become fissures; to be broken open, smashed to pieces and turned into ash and dust. To be reborn into the truth that you have always had within, always known in your soul, but has felt too dangerous, too uncomfortable to embrace:

That you are just enough.

That you are love and loved, unconditionally.

That you are worthy as you are.

The choice is yours. Embrace death or avoid it; shift your perception of what it means to die, or stay stuck fearing it, behind the walls you have built to avoid it. Defending your fortress of solitude. But if you choose to hide behind your walls, safe and comfortable, you will never know the soul shaking, shifting and expanding feeling of a true, deep and unconditional love.

You will never be seen and truly known for exactly who it is that you are. Because what comfort and safety requires of you is that you hide. And nobody can see you if you are hiding.

[You can’t see you if you are hiding.]

And to exist in this life without ever knowing your depths, corners and edges; to never touch and taste the exquisite duality of your light and dark; to never be stripped down, fully vulnerable and seen and truly known, loved and accepted by another— in my opinion— is a fate worse than death. For there is no living without death; and living fearing death with the primary goal of avoiding that which is inevitable, is merely existing.

So you choose.

Safety in hiding and comfort, being alive yet never truly living.

Or death in daring to open; accepting yourself, in all your brilliant and beautiful humanity, perfect mess and miraculous grace. Death for true belonging and experiencing the fullness this life has to offer.

Whatever you choose is perfect, and that choice is yours to make. All I ask is that you do your best to hear me when I say:

I receive you in your humanity. 

Fall down. Get back up. Learn. Try again.

I do not fault you for your uncertainty.

I do not fear your chaos.

I’m here. Arms open, ready to receive you as you are.

You are loved immensely and unconditionally.

And who you are is, and always has been, just enough.

With gratitude and ALWAYS love,

---

“How does one become a butterfly?” she asked pensively. Orange Butterfly “You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.”

– Trina Paulus

---

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

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,

PS: If you know someone who would just love this piece, please like and share 🙏🏼Thank you for your support!