The cool girl is light and breezy. Nothing phases her. She takes everything in stride.
The cool girl is all go with the flow. “Whatever” is her middle name.
The cool girl does not really have opinions or preferences. And if she does, she most certainly keeps them to herself.
The cool girl is fine with everything. All. the. time.
The cool girl does not ruffle feathers or make waves.
The cool girl bends, adapts and adjusts so that everyone else is comfortable.
The cool girl pretends like she does not give a fuck. Especially when she does.
The cool girl never actually lets you in. You may think you know her, but you only know what she wants you to see.
The cool girl knows all the right things to say so that people will like her. She is a shape-shifting chameleon of the highest order.
I am well acquainted with the cool girl, because I was her for so long.
Honestly, I still can be.
I remember being 5 years old sitting on the couch in my living room, watching the street for my father’s car… which more often than not did not arrive for our weekly visitation.
I also remember feeling devastated that he was not there… again. In my 5 year old mind, he was not coming because there was something wrong with me. I must not be worth his time or his effort.
So if he called to say he was not going to be able to make it this week, I would tell him in my most pleasing little girl voice, ” That’s ok, Dad. I’ll just see you next time. ” What else could I do? I did not want to make him think I was any more trouble by crying or telling him hell no it’s not OK. If I told the truth, maybe he would think I was too much, or he could not deal with me. I already believed that and did not want to give him any more reason not to come see me.
I took all of that hurt and pain and buried it somewhere deep inside. My mission in life was not to rock the boat or make waves. Cool Girl had been born.
It was not until I got into my early 30s that I realized Cool Girl was actually killing me. And so began a long road of unwinding all the beliefs and messaging I had received along the way so Authentic Girl could emerge.
Know what authentic girl wants?
She wants deep connection and meaningful conversation.
She wants the intimacy that comes from smiling at a stranger on the street or making eye contact with someone over a cup of coffee.
She wants to play, laugh, and flirt with life- unabashedly, with no apologies.
She wants to dance with joy, sob with sadness, or wriggle with pleasure.
She wants to meet each moment head on in the fullest, most embodied way imaginable.
She wants to do the hard things even as her voice trembles and her body quakes.
She wants to share her opinions, needs, preferences, desires, thoughts, wishes, hopes and experiences that are uniquely hers so that she can truly be seen.
And she wants to see others with that same level of depth.
She wants to feel the aliveness that courses through her veins and is always available to her at any time.
She wants to shudder with delight at the full moon and gaze in wonder at the tree frog she discovers on her walk in the woods.
She want to take a huge, delicious juicy bite out of life.
And that, my friends, is the fucking coolest thing of all.
What does you authentic self want?
What stands in the way of expressing that?