My Super(wo)man has a voice.
It feels tedious to begin with an apology, but some things need addressing up front. My analogy uses Superman not Wonder Woman. Superman is a super entity. One super word. Wonder Woman, on the other hand, is not. I guess it was always preferable to keep her as part wonder, part woman.
Woman, don’t get too wondrous. Know your place.
Last week I took part in a brilliant online programme around reclaiming power. Not power as we traditionally think about it (male, ego-driven and orange), but that deep inner knowing power.
Our essence, our truth, our magic. Our feminine power.
Despite all the therapy, journaling, meditation and mindfulness, part of my brain seems absolutely determined to have me play small with my power. I think we know, deep down inside of us, where we hold ourselves back. Where we don’t speak up, where we put others' wants before our own needs. Where we shape shift ourselves, chameleonically, to blend. To be liked. To be accepted. To fit in.
Maybe, like me, you have made a shit tonne of progress in this area and think you have it nailed? Hmmm. I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but you probably don’t…….
It can take a reframe, to see something differently.
I had never really thought of this people-pleasing stuff as a ‘power leak’ before. A drain on the battery of who we are. But it’s obvious really, isn’t it? These small and seemingly insignificant moments really do have the capacity to deplete not just our energy, but our power. Saying yes when really we mean no. Smiling, and laughing along with a joke or opinion that we do not like or even agree with, just to keep the peace. How often, in the past, did I feel cornered into the latter. Telling myself it was the right thing to do, anything for a quiet life. Words which never appeased my voiceless and fearful insides.
On the flip side,
how many of us deal astonishingly well with a, ‘shit has hit the fan,’ crisis?
We probably surprise ourselves with our level of clear-headed thinking and calm in the face of panic. We don’t just crack on and push through, we become utterly unstoppable. We speak up. We have difficult conversations. We delegate. We make rapid decisions. We do the hard shit because, backed against a wall, we have no choice. And given no choice, we radiate a nuclear power.
Yes, in a crisis, we are undoubtedly, Super(wo)men.
Once the battle is won, we return home. Weary and exhausted, but proud. A job well done. We shed our Super(wo)man clothes, wash away the sweet smell of success, and dress ourselves……….. as Clark Kent.
Yes, somewhere in our past we learnt it was safer to live life as Clark. Not Super(wo)man.
Clark is the master of disguise. He blends in. Clark is the ultimate people-pleaser. He excels at reading the room, and reflecting back exactly what he finds. Clark never shines. Shining draws attention.
We spend so long dressed as Clark, we can forget it is our disguise. That the real person in the room is Super(wo)man. The irony of being in our power, in our full Super(wo)man Self, is that in the day-to-day it can feel desperately uncomfortable. Not at all how we imagine a superhero to feel.
But the mundanity of normal life is where the hardest and most rewarding battles are fought and won.
The moments when we feel a ‘no’ and say it out loud, the times we don’t find a joke funny and we speak up, the days we ask for help when the indebtedness makes us squirm.
My Clark Kent is silent, but my Super(wo)man has a voice.
In the words of American psychoanalyst, James Hollis. “What we fear most is not failure, but discovering we have betrayed our own potential. Living too small, too safe. Too long in someone else's story.”
If you do not feel like Super(wo)man, check out your clothes. You could be living in disguise. But remember this,
You were born Super(wo)man. The real you is Super(wo)man.
She deserves to be seen, to be heard and to have her own story.
Thanks for being here. Big love,
Helen x