For the woman who looks like she has it all together, and quietly wonders where she went.
I was about twenty-five the first time I really felt like I had lost me.
I was in a serious relationship. I had moved away from my family and my friends, and I was playing the role of the partner I thought I was supposed to be. I dressed a certain way. I was a stepmum without children of my own, and somewhere in all of it, I had no voice.
It was uncomfortable. And then the realisation hit me like a brick wall: I was not happy. I felt empty. I had no connection with myself, and I wanted more. I was scared, too. No family close by, no network beyond my work colleagues. What was I going to do?
Who I became, and who I actually am
In that relationship, I became what I thought he wanted me to be. The trophy. Fit, lean, agreeable. I paid my own way, I made everything easy, I had no opinion, and there was no friction between us. From the outside, it looked like the perfect relationship.
But who I actually am is sassy, kind, generous, playful, sarcastic, bold and bloody funny. I am goofy and certainly not perfect. I am warm and I am real. I am emotional and I am deep.
Because here is the thing about essence. It is the part of you that is always there. The part people feel. The part you know, deep down, is unmistakably you.
The parts of me that never changed, no matter who I was trying to be. My kindness. My sass and my playfulness. The way I feel deeply and process quickly. My integrity, which is one of my highest values. My strong, black-and-white sense of right and wrong. My emotion as my superpower.
As a little girl, I was a free spirit. Silly, playful, always singing and dancing. I was best one-on-one. Groups overwhelmed me, and I never liked the thought of anyone being left out. I loved being in nature, climbing trees, being around animals. I loved feeling free.
The long way home
For a long time, there was so much I could not control, so my focus went to my body because that was the one thing I could control. That is actually how I found my first coach. I found her because everything felt hollow. I was flat, no highs, no lows, just flat. I was living in a unit under a nursing home with my beautiful soul dog, and it was just her and I, one foot in front of the other.
I remember going to Europe with one of my girlfriends and feeling it all over again, so self-conscious of the role I needed to play, of being light and easy, and then being critiqued and placed right back in the box people felt so comfortable putting me in.
I remember the introductory call with that coach. The moment I hung up, I burst into tears. Because the thought of staying the way I was, stuck in that same loop, playing that same role, was terrifying. I was anxious. Unsure. Constantly shrinking. I had no voice, no idea of the woman I was, no connection to who I was at my core.
To find her again, I released, I unlearned, and I grieved. I released being liked. I unlearned how to people please by staying quiet. I grieved comfort and safety. And I grieved people. People who were in my life even though they were not aligned. That was a big one. There has been so much death and loss of family and friends in my life that I had developed a deep fear of walking away from anyone. So I stayed in dynamics that were not right for me, long after I knew.
Coming home to myself felt expansive. It feels grounding. It feels like glitter, rainbows and unicorns. It feels like joy and safety. Safety in yourself, and like so much love you could burst.
Now that I have reclaimed her, some relationships have fallen away. And my authenticity has magnetised so many more into my life. Ones that meet my frequency. My abundance has expanded. I have stepped into my life purpose. I speak my truth. I use my voice. And I am completely okay if someone does not like me.
What this work is really about
I deeply believe that underneath everything, all any of us really want is love and connection. To feel safe enough to be ourselves. We just go about it in unresourceful ways sometimes.
This work matters so much to me because I know exactly how it feels to remember who you are at your core and reconnect with her. To be authentic. To be love. It is my life work, because if I can help even one person move toward love, that is a gift. It creates a ripple. And a ripple can create great change.
If I could tell every woman I work with one thing about who she is beneath it all, it is this: you are powerful beyond what you can even imagine. Women have a strength and a tenacity that is almost unimaginable. And I am here to help you remember it. To give you the tools to see your own strength, the resources to choose differently, the mirror to see your patterns and change them. The awareness to recognise the armour you have been carrying, and the permission to set it down. To return to love. To let your radiance and your essence shine.
To the woman reading this
I know it is scary. I know it can feel like you are at the bottom of a black hole with no way out. I know what it feels like to play a role and abandon yourself, and your body, too.
And I know it can feel hopeless. But I also know what it feels like on the other side. Joy. Light. Expansion. Trust. Like an exhale you did not realise of the breath you had been holding. Feeling truly alive, your soul satiated in a way you did not know was possible. The feeling of gratitude for your life hitting you so deep it makes you emotional. Proud of how far you have come, and of the life you have built, because you chose yourself.
You showed up for the little girl you once were. The one who truly believed the world was her oyster. You get to remember her. You get to make her proud. You get to make you proud.
Because underneath everything you have become is everything you actually are. She was never gone. She has just been waiting for you to come home.
With love, Simmone x
