Attention from the popular boys
The truth under my teenage obsession
I looked around the room with a sense of longing and discomfort. I want attention from the popular boys, I realized with a flush of shame and confusion.
But this wasn't 2005, and I wasn't a teenager anymore. It was just last year—and I was a 32-year-old adult.
Why was I so obsessed with that particular attention, just as I was reaching the end of a life-changing group coaching certification?
Within hours, in a practice coaching session, we were digging in... and I put together the pieces.
I'm not supposed to be a leader.
The closest that I can get to power is by aligning myself with charismatic men.
That's the message that I internalized in my earliest years.
Being born with a vulva meant that I couldn't be a pastor, according to the evangelical sphere that I was raised in. So I set my sights on becoming a pastor's wife. I'd do the "good work" from behind the scenes, subtly influencing my husband without taking center stage myself.
I agonized over my ambition and artistic pursuits, trying to stuff them aside and fit myself into whatever box "God's will" looked like at the moment.
And I courted the attention of boys who seemed like future leaders, because they seemed like the best path to what I wanted.
I left the church in 2007, the year I turned 18. Those toxic beliefs were still embedded fifteen years later. They were like innermost tree rings marking my soul. And just when I was growing and accepting myself as a leader, they threw me back into the codependent teen frenzy I thought I'd long outgrown.
I'm not supposed to be a leader.
I'm not supposed to be a leader.
I'm not ALLOWED to be a leader.
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This is embodied vulnerability.
Unpeeling, unshaming, and unraveling the messages that hold you back. The ones that were stamped on you before you had access to a will of your own.
In a group of my peers, I sobbed and spoke and moved and released.
I laid claim to a wild, untamable power within me.
I let go of a cloak of teen angst that I'd silently worn for decades.
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I am allowed to be a leader.
I am supposed to be a leader.
I AM A LEADER.
That intimate experience inspired me to hold in-person retreats, because I knew how fucking transformative they could be. My coaching cohort spent one weekend a month together throughout the spring, and every single one of those weekends blew me away. They opened me. Shattered me. Renewed me. All while I learned exactly how to create and facilitate those powerful experiences for others.
It was one of the best things I've ever done, and running my first retreat last summer confirmed how fucking hungry people are for intimate connection and guidance.
What has your inner truth been trying to tell you?
What limiting belief has been making it hard to hear your truth? Really, really fucking listen?
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I'm extending late registration for the Embodied Vulnerability Retreat into August. It's from August 25-28 in Boston, MA. With accommodations, the cost is $1000; if you have your own place to stay locally, it's $550. To register, Venmo @ natsmith89 with your email address in the memo.
Wherever it is that you're stuck, you will find movement.
Wherever it is that you're resisting, you will find release.
Whoever it is that you want more from, you will make the ask.
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You, your body, and your soul are invited to join the joyfest.
Much love,
Nat (they/them)