I’ll tell you which subscriptions I’m canceling. It’s not a streaming service. It’s the subscription to the “don’t think like that” narrative that’s been holding me back for far too many years.

Be it vain, trite, selfish, ungrounded, unserious, foolish, childish, irresponsible, lucky to be free of the burden of responsibility, carefree but not in a good way—but like, isn’t she lucky, if only I had _____, I’d be free to _____. Insert what you’d like. These thoughts. These are the toxic thoughts that plague far too many of us.

I’m incredibly blessed by this life and fortunate for the opportunity to find work that I enjoy and am passionate about to the point where I’ll proudly admit, I geek out regularly. And yet, my life’s a struggle. You can insert all the things here too to justify, but I’m starting to realize I think it’s my energy to these thoughts that’s making my receptivity to the opportunities before me dulled, quieted, static.

When my son watched Sesame Street, and they sang the letter of the day, and the letter’s F, I always let him know that’s my favorite letter. All my loves begin with the letter F: food, furniture, fauna, florals, folklife, friends, family, faith, fun. Ya’ll, I’m living a good life, and the work I’m doing regularly is towards the aim of making other people feel more seen and valued. I’ve found work that allows me joy in delivering, while providing a service that brings clarity and helps make the road of life and home less heavy to travel. Yeah, the shame game ends. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable.

It makes me uncomfortable too.

I’ve liked the cover of the life hidden without the responsibility of feeling allowed to be my full self. I remember starting out in my late teens and early twenties just as the rise of social media was beginning. In my early days, I was wild and free on the interwebs of Myspace. Too wild, perhaps—that when a young kid from the aftercare I worked at friend requested me, I found myself quickly quieted from the growing experience of the social networks. The world of my free uninhibited voice became silenced at the awareness of all of my selves being visible in one place, online.

In life, at this time at least, I had developed multiple mes. The me with my theater friends, the me with my dorm friends, there was a me with my high school friends, and a me with my family, the me with my various friends groups that develop in life and work—I had so many mes that when I found all of them having to be witnessed together, I found my voice less safe. Less free. More controlled and aware.

I posted not long ago a video on Instagram, and I felt like I was whispering, afraid of the sound of my own voice. When I listen to it, I cringe. I cringe so much that I wonder why I don’t just take it down. But that wouldn’t be honest, and that’s not who I aim to be, a dishonest person. The cringe is the point, and getting over it out here on the interwebs is the last phase of being fully free to be me.

Always Welcome, where your voice is a part of the bigger story.

Join me as I discover what living with one’s full voice can be.

With Love & Curiosity,

Mallorie