The New Female Inspiration

There’re women you look up to, and then women you want to be. And sometimes these women are one and the same.

As a young girl, I was always looking toward the women in my life, always trying to figure out how they achieved what they did. How they managed to look so put together amongst the chaos. I would push my hair into a messy pony tail and wonder why they were prettier than I was. Wonder how they smothered that makeup on their cheeks and made me feel inferior. How I couldn’t manage to create that line on my lid no matter how hard I tried. I would put these women on a pedestal, high above me, untouchable.

My mother was one of those women. One that achieved much more than I could dream of fulfilling. She is both strong and independent. Always doing for me and my brother without question, without needing a thing in return. She never seemed to make a mistake, and so when I did, I felt like a failure. Like I would never live up to her standards. Standards she never put into words but those I felt in every unanswered question or in a side long glance.

It wasn’t until I met Rachel that I saw these women for what they were. Humans. People like me. Making their own mistakes but hiding them. Staying silent instead of shining for those around them. Rachel showed me what these women never did, that I could fail and still achieve what I dreamed of being. That what I dreamed of being, wasn’t necessarily something I came up with on my own. It was an expectation.

For months on end, Rachel was a light in the dark. She taught me it was okay to think for myself, to dream for myself. To let my emotions show even if they weren’t my favorite ones.

But the thing about Rachel. Well she wasn’t someone I met at school or work. Wasn’t someone I ran into at a bar or cafe. She wasn’t someone I even knew in-real-life. Rachel was/is a woman I follow on Instagram. A woman from a state I’d never traveled to. A woman who was going through the recovery of an abusive relationship.

I started following her for the same reasons I looked up to these other women. She had followers, she was biracial (though not the same black and white combo as myself), she was pretty, she had been through something, she had something to say, and soon I wanted to be just like her. She was raw, and unfiltered. The pretty girl who was both funny and independent. Classy, yet a goof ball. Who had a voice, but was still able to hear others. Rachel was clever and educated. She talked about concepts I’d never heard of, and used terms I would have laughed at if said in front of other people. She talked about topics that embarrassed me. Talked about things that were not okay, but that we as women just accepted as facts.

I decided I wanted to be just like her, even if it was the last thing I did. But there was one problem with my plan. Rachel’s voice was her own, and she was consistent with her message, growth. About finding yourself in the middle of the grey, being true to you and only you. So to be like her, I couldn’t be her. I couldn’t copy her actions and call them my own. I needed to be authentic and unapologetically me.

I needed to stop fighting to be the person I thought I was supposed to be, to understand that it wasn’t really an accomplishment to be perfect. That my emotions weren’t the enemy. In fact, that there was no enemy at all. That it was just my ego speaking out. And boy, was my ego loud.

She [my ego] insisted I needed to be picture perfect in every moment. That I needed to wear the make up, and impress everyone around me with not only my looks, but my brain as well. That I needed to be fun and happy, all the time. That I needed to make people laugh.

And though Rachel and I never sat down for coffee together or exchanged numbers, she convinced me that my ego needed to be told to sit down — to be quiet. That it was okay to feel as if the path I was on was not for me. That it’s okay to change.

And so, because of Rachel, I began my journey. My journey to self-awareness, to an awakening within, to finding the real me. She suggested actions in her stories, and I took them. She posted quotes and I drank them in. She asked for responses in polls and I participated. I flaunted her existence to everyone that would listen.

Rachel inspired me to set boundaries. Boundaries within my family, within my relationships and finally within myself. I began to really think about who I was, and what I wanted my life to look like. I stopped following women I thought were achieving it all, and started looking for those that were open about their journey. Those that wanted to talk about the real and the ugly. Those that wanted to be true to themselves.

Rachel opened me up to a world, and another side of women that I never knew existed. One where I felt whole, and accepted. I found myself commenting on other women’s journeys. Finding friends in places I’ve never looked. Being accepted, even without my shields in place. Doing things for myself and not for those around me. Eating healthy not because it looked good on instagram, but because I needed to take care of one of the most important people in my life, me.

She showed me it was okay to be selfish, and that my life didn't need to look a certain way, that it only needed to feel a certain way.

Even though we’ve never met, Rachel has been the most inspirational woman I’ve ever gotten the chance to know. In this age of social media and micro-influencers, it goes to show the power within a platform.

Thank you, Rachel, for being confident enough to share your journey with the world [and me].