Found my heart on the trail today. It’s been broken. It’s weathered, worn and rough around the edges. Yet it’s as solid as a rock. It’s strong enough to withstand the worst of storms. It’s the thing I love most about myself. It gives every part (as broken those parts my be) of itself to others. The love it feels is rooted deeply. It leads me down paths I never thought imaginable. It feels pride in its imperfection. (And I’m really happy it pumps blood through my body!) #beyourinnerrockstar

Consumed with self-doubt I found myself believing the mounds of shit my inner critic was telling me, when someone pointed to a picture of me and asked me, “Tell me about this girl. Who is she? What is she telling herself in this moment?” And then it hit me.  I love and believe in the person I become when I have that pink wig on.

I held that photo for a minute or two with a smile on my face.  How quickly the chatter in my head quieted.  My heart began to smile and I as I took each breath my chest rose in pride.

I answered, “She’s not thinking.  She’s doing. She’s got a job to do in that moment (which was to get that swimmer into the T1 swim tents as quickly as possible!) She’s helping, something the loves to do and loves herself when doing it.  Although many know who she is, the person featured in the photo doesn’t. It warms her heart that the person will only remember the moment a pink-haired stranger helped her. She doesn’t care what others are thinking of her, although she’s tuned to knowing she’s put herself out there with that hair. Nothing seems impossible to her in that moment. She can do anything. She’s happy. She feels complete. And that’s everything in her world.”

There have been several other moments the pink wig has made an appearance. And those moments pretty much leave the same impression on me.

So is this pink-haired Rockstar my superhero persona?  You know, like Diana Price/Wonder Woman; Bruce Wayne/Batman; Clark Kent/Superman?  And which is the real me? Is Szabo my secret identity or is the pink-haired Rockstar who I really am? How can I be a combination of both?

I went home from that conversation (disclosure, it was with my therapist) got out the pink wig and began to wrestle the inner critic while working on a project which forced me to ‘market’ myself to complete strangers. The goal was to show my strengths in a way which they’d realize I was good enough for them.  The room suddenly filled with magic once I donned the wig.  Confidence exhumed as the words effortless flowed across the paper.  (full disclosure, I’m wearing the wig as these words flow across this paper.)

 

I don’t believe being my inner Rockstar takes any superhuman abilities.  It would seem that I already possess the qualities and traits needed to be my inner Rockstar and this is just a one small step in finding them.