Why I Stopped Being The Nice Girl And Chose The Creative Life Instead
For years I was her. The nice girl. The one that giggled off uncomfortable situations, had zero boundaries around the ways I’d offer up my time and played the people pleasing game like I had a serious point to prove.
It got old.
By thirty, a major health crisis had affected my life and every single thing about the way I was showing up in the world was torn open for a hard look and some serious re-evaluation.
Being the nice girl had to go.
Because being the one who spoke soft, hid a fierce personality for fear of judgement and threw her power away left, right and center were the exact things that led to my third decade collapse.
Being the nice one had killed my confidence. It had led me down a wholly unrecognizable path and it had me passing mirrors wondering who the person I’d catch a quick glimpse of was. And at that point, a quick glance was all I could stomach. Facing this hollow persona, head on, it broke my heart.
So I stopped.
I stopped the shy and awkward giggle when the joke was offensive or destructive. I stopped hiding behind the ideas and beliefs that never fit and most importantly, I tapped back into a version of myself my twenties had forgotten to chew and swallowed whole.
I stopped caring.
Not about the world or the people in it but about the parts of it that bled me dry. Of the energy drains and the vampires. I stopped participating in and enabling other people’s fractured stories and skeletons.
My closet was full of my own.
I broke and the creative life was my way back home. I knew it. I’d known it all along. The nice girl, the girl that fit in, the girl that people could relate to had built towering walls between me and the artistic life I craved. I was more than ready to tear them down and find my way back to the person I could relate to, back to the person that I knew.
Running from what I was had run its course.
Slowly I started to write. I started to create again. I started to make. I started to carefully coax a long lost inner child out. Assuring her she could trust this new adult version. Letting her know all she was, was more than good enough.
Piece by piece, word by word she started to play. To create, to find her voice, to allow herself space in this world. To assure herself it was absolutely safe to be the strong, independent, free-spirited dreamer she had always been.
Is my not so nice girl always well received? For the most part, yes. Yes because this girl with a voice has joined a league of extraordinary women. Women paving paths, demanding change and carving out their own definition of enough. Women who lead with an empathy that can’t be taught and compassion that can’t be learned through anything other than finding their own way back. Women who are fighting for their own inner child and finally learning to release the nice girl and all she’s kept them from.
The nice girl had a purpose. She had her own set of lessons to teach and for that I’m grateful. She occupied a fragile era of my life. But her agenda and season have passed. Her wounds are healing and her scars will serve as constant reminders of all she could never be. They will take on the role of muse and offer inspiration to pour thought and depth into my creative work.
I have traded in my nice girl for the all the shadows and truth the creative life demands. If there’s any certainty I carry in this world and this awakened self, it’s a deep knowing, I’m never going back.
View Lauren’s work and connect with her at www.lauren-williamson.com