I Became Her
On the eve of my 29th birthday, I realized I became the woman I imagined and aspired to be as a teenager: a woman who is resilient, confident, patient and authentically herself.
Building this woman has been one of the most uncomfortable journeys I’ve embarked on. It has been messy, emotional, and challenging, yet I would do it all over again. My decisions, including the ones I struggled to make, were building blocks for the version of myself writing this today.
Unintentionally, I manifested this three years ago when I wrote a blog titled Becoming Her. This is how I built her.
First and foremost, I addressed my unhealthy coping mechanism.
During my early and mid-twenties, I used work to ignore my depression. My busy travel schedule, involvement with several boards, and activism kept me too occupied to face the state of my mental health.
Then, a global pandemic stripped me of my shields and left me vulnerable to my own conscience. After several mental breakdowns, I sought professional help and was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The symptoms were affecting me daily. Therapy gave me the tools to know my triggers and how to regulate them.
Seeking help changed the course of my life. It was not easy to articulate what was buried in my heart, but the alternative was leading me to a miserable, unhealthy, and dangerous state. My therapist helped me let people in, be kinder to myself, and foster a peaceful mindset.
I am resilient.
In the process of caring for my mind, I learned to care for my body.
As I took steps towards mental wellness, my physical mistreatment became clearer. Since I was 19 years old, I have obsessed over cardio routines and restrictive eating. Unfortunately, these habits created health issues with long-term consequences. Then, one day, I became tired of depriving myself of foods like white rice, bread and bananas. I was exhausted from having to earn the right to eat my favorite meals, so I quit trying. There had to be another way to live.
The moment I started to be kinder to my body, I began to see different and better results. Instead of focusing on weight loss, I focused on strength. I fell in love with physical movement because of how it made me feel, not how it made me look. Now, I look forward to working out because I do what I enjoy the most; I bike to dinners with friends, run a couple of miles, play tennis with my cousins, go on walks, lift weights, and anything that gets me moving.
Breaking up with the obsession of weight loss has freed me from constant shame and disappointment. Now, I eat nutritious food and care for my body with love and appreciation.
I am confident.
Loving myself also meant prioritizing my career and education over romantic relationships.
This might be my most controversial point yet, so proceed with an open mind. In college, I realized I could not handle school, multiple jobs, and a romantic relationship at the same time. One of them was failing terribly. There are people that can do it all and I’m not one of them. Therefore, I made the decision to prioritize my professional development.
I have accomplished a lot at my age because I poured my energy into my formal education, following career advice, building connections, and saying yes to opportunities. From time to time, I entertain suitors but no one has brought the peace I require yet. Without a doubt my avoidant attachment style influences this way of thinking. However, I’m not sure I would be where I am today if I would have prioritized a romantic relationship over my career.
Now that I have set myself on a path to achieve my professional goals, I can consider the idea of prioritizing and making time for the right person. Just as there are women that prioritized building a family in their twenties and now would like to focus on their careers, our priorities can and should change.
I am patient.
Lastly, I learned to give myself grace.
I am a flawed human being and I’m learning to see me for who I am. As the oldest daughter in an immigrant household, I expected myself to be perfect in order to survive. I thought this was the only way I could help my family to navigate a new country. The standards I used to hold myself up to were ridiculously high, but I would never expect anything like it from others.
The problem with perfectionists is that while we hide from our flaws, we also fail to learn from our mistakes. Therefore, I no longer strive for perfection. The mistakes I have made along the way were necessary. Forgiving myself replaced my internal shame with grace. I can only hope to make better decisions going forward.
I am authentic.
This journey knocked me down nine times, but I got up ten. Somedays, I would lose sight of why any of it mattered, but every day I felt a little better and more whole. I knew the day would come that I would look back and thank myself for not giving up on me.
I became her by believing I could and I did!