I have this thing with visibility. Our relationship is complex. I’d describe it as love/hate, hot/cold… the textbook toxic relationship. I crave visibility and fear it all at the same time.
As a kid, I was always drawn to people who were out there—musicians, entertainers, supermodels, artists. I felt some type of strange connection to them and admired what they were doing in the world. I’d watch MTV, flip through magazines, and listen to the radio absorbing lyrics, looks, and lifestyles. There was no shortage of inspiration growing up in the 90s. Public figures felt so much more authentic, individualistic, and attractive 30 years ago. The internet was more about chat rooms and less about filters, likes, and followers. Discovering exceptional talent felt so much more exciting because of the rarity of being discovered. All the creativity and visibility appealed to me, and I secretly craved it for myself.
It was a secret because I grew up with people that weren’t super interested in learning about my interests. This meant that I needed to figure things out for myself. I learned the art of navigating complex household dynamics instead of exploring my creative interests and being validated and seen. I used my intuition and any creative talent to embody perfectionism, people-pleasing, and shrink myself. Invisibility took precedence over visibility.
As an adult, my childhood dreams of visibility were realized in other ways—a dynamic career, teaching yoga, small modeling gigs. However, in the past I couldn’t fully show up to these experiences feeling confident and worthy of them because I hadn’t worked on my self-esteem. It’s a strange feeling when people see so much in you but you don’t see it in yourself. But I had to believe that I was doing something right because opportunities kept appearing. It created a lot of dissonance in my mind—wanting visibility, getting it, and then fearing it. I lived in that push/pull space for a really long time, and then it changed.
It got really exhausting to live how I thought other people wanted me to live. I started thinking more about death and the fact that we don’t have forever in this lifetime. I started thinking about how important it is for me to have all the experiences that I want to have, or at least as many of them as possible. I decided to see what life feels like when I’m doing what I actually want to do. Which starts with being brave enough to let myself be seen, visible, and heard.
Until now, it’s felt really safe for me to keep my truest thoughts, wants, and opinions tucked away inside my mind. It was a defense mechanism, but I don’t need to play defense anymore. With Vanilla Thought, my intention is to give visibility to what’s on my mind, use my voice—and if I’m lucky—create connection .
