If you are trying to be normal, you will never know how amazing you can be. ~Maya Angelou
I was reminded the other day of once being told that I couldn’t be molded into the perfect Turkish girl. That was the word used: molded. As much as I tried to do everything right, I wasn’t able to able to be the perfect Turkish girl because I couldn’t even fill the mold by not being entirely Turkish. My “American-ness” kept coming un-tucked, no matter how often I tried to tuck that back in.
We kept a Turkish house and customs. I cooked Turkish Meals, relearned Turkish, and tried to embody what a traditional Turkish wife would be like. The more I kept denying myself and who I was, the more my Me-ness would seep from the seams in creative, definitely not “normal” ways.
As these bits and pieces of me came alive again, love and support were replaced with Contempt and Scorn. I began to believe that what felt right for me to do was stupid and embarrassing for others. If I stretched beyond the middle road of normal, I would be chastised for doing too much for others and standing out. Even the lunches I would make and bring for me and Mina’s dad were embarrassing. I remember making and bringing lunch up to him every day so we could enjoy lunch together. If someone we knew came over to say hi during lunch, we had to hide the lunch I made under the table because they were too different than what others would bring. This was confusing to me: wouldn’t someone want their loved one to care enough to bring a lovely meal to share together?
I did what any normal person does in order to maintain the equilibrium. I hid. I hid who I was, what I did or wanted to do, gave in secret so no one would know or find out.
It has taken a long time to begin to feel comfortable sharing who I am with others openly. After 12 years of being told my creativity was embarrassing and ideas crazy, it’s funny to have others look at me and admire the way my mind works in out of the box creative ways.
The other day, my friend, James, came over to talk about the TV show that he is trying to start out. Embarrassed that I had so many Christmas projects on my dining room table, I apologized for having my crazy “creativity-on-crack” displayed so openly. Continuing to apologize, I kept trying to explain that once I begin to open the door to being creative that the synapses just don’t stop and …well… THIS happens [as I point to the table]
I got a reaction I wasn’t ready for: He said I had an interesting mind and that he wanted to take notes on some of my projects to reproduce as product for the show.
huh? You don’t think I am cuckoo by letting my creativity out of the cage?
It was then that I realized that I shouldn’t be afraid anymore of hiding that “crazy” side of me. It was what made me ME. There are people who can’t handle my energy because it challenges the status quo. Because I don’t have the fear that others do to try and make the pictures in my head real, it makes them fearful of their own capabilities.
I also realized that it wasn’t that I couldn’t fill the mold because I wasn’t Turkish enough…it was that I ended up breaking free from the mold that tried to confine me and who I was or could be.