How It Actually Happened
Ditching the need to present perfection.
Almost 10 years ago, I woke up at 4am on Christmas morning to hike up a mountain in the dark.
I stopped at the top to enjoy the sunrise with a “breakfast beer” (I was still drinking back then), snowboarded back down, and returned to the house. My family had all piled in under the same roof for the week, so I’d slid into an open chair at an already-full breakfast table.
I used to worry about which parts of myself to share. The whole thing felt risky. In a setting where I never really knew what to say or how to say it, that morning adventure—and others like it—let me stop caring. I was content to sip my coffee in silence, surrounded by sound.
I’ve thought about that morning a lot over the years.
That version of me did not know how to cope. As a kid I’d earned the label “well-adjusted” by family members, teachers, and parents of the other kids in my class. I’m told they’d meant it as a compliment, since I’d seemingly been able to adapt easily to all the changes after my parents’ divorce… but all I’d really done was learn how to read a room—and the people in it—to determine what was expected of me. The rest was a performance.
Apparently, a good one.
I learned to only share myself in ways that wouldn’t invite criticism, etching a mantra of “don’t rock the boat” deep into my nervous system. Cope invisibly. Hide. That way of doing things stuck with me longer than I realized.
For years, I’d approach social settings as if there were an expectation to “show us something good.” It’s how I used to operate online, too. All those years ago, I’d taken a million selfies on the top of that mountain during sunrise on Christmas. Then I’d spent longer than I’d like to admit picking one to post.
I took some selfies this Christmas, too, but was struck by how differently I engaged with the whole process. My mom doesn’t like this photo but I do (sorry, mom).
I still woke up early because my body doesn’t know how to not do that anymore. But it wasn’t 4am and I didn’t then go hike a mountain. I sat and had coffee with my mom, chatted leisurely and earnestly, had breakfast, and went outside with Ava. We took photos with the tree and while exchanging gifts, but I like this one. We’re smiling. For real. Laughing, even. She’s holding a poop bag, and it shows us as we are—as it actually happened—and without presentation.
My goal isn’t to present perfection anymore, it’s to be present for all the imperfection. However you spent the holidays, I hope you were able to do the same. The best stories come from sharing how it actually happened. To do that, you have to actually be there.
onward.
If you enjoyed reading this, I write short reflections like it every day as part of an email series called BUDS (Becoming Unobstructed Daily Snippets). Think of them like field notes for navigating agency, grief, and creativity in daily life.
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