Words are powerful things. They evoke strong emotions and associative beliefs. They are powerful and yet nuanced and complicated. Words mean different things to different people. Sometimes our own interpretations have more to do with us than the actual word. Some words are triggering. I’m learning a lot about myself as I pay more attention to the way I respond internally to different words. Today when I was listening to a lecture, I heard the world BOLD. I actually had a visceral response.

BOLD

Bold-

The first thing that comes to mind is if I’m anything, it’s not bold. When I think of BOLD, I think of self-serving. Someone who is boorish that takes more than is hers, demands to be seen, and relishes in being the center of attention. Somehow bold has conjured up so much negativity, power, even distain from me. I’m not even sure why. I’m not sure what Bold did to me to get such a bad wrap. After realizing this, I took the time to look up the definition and realized bold actually means:

Courageous, fearless, resolute, daring even…

So how did I come to have such disdain for boldness and all of it’s freedom and strength and beauty. I think bold left me forsaken to feel exposed, naked, even abandoned in a way. I’ve spent a lifetime hiding-hiding and covering up. I haven’t wanted to be seen-not really anyway, not as the real me. I have presented a version of me that is conforming, conventional, acceptable. I have worked painstakingly hard not to stand out, to be harmonious, in line with, to blend in-even if it meant splintering off fundamental pieces of me. I’m a human contortionist, and I’m really really good at it.

_{Bold* BOLD*Bold*BOLD}

I think if I’m honest BOLD is what I wish more than anything to be.

I wish to be BOLD:

Unabashed

Unapologetic

Brave

Fearless

Daring

~I long to know her to be inhabited by her…