I don’t like people telling me what to do. In fact, I never have (and undoubtedly never will).
Whether it was when a priest told me I was unfit for serving the alter because of my gender, or when I was told I wasn’t cut out for advanced level math courses in high school. Whether it was when the recess rules forbade me from playing football with the boys, or when I felt pressured to act, dress, feel a certain way just to fit in with the status quo.
No more, I’ve said to myself this year. This time, and for all time, I get to decide the rules that govern my life.
As I reiterated last month, I am a woman of passion. Follow me on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, or in real life (if you’re lucky) –– it’s pretty obvious what I do and don’t appreciate. Which is why I struggled with the ethics of objectivity in traditional journalism. How could I just document all that happened in the world, but never get a chance to speak up for myself, or what I believe is right?
That goes along with my semester-long infatuation with politics. In January, I discovered the world of international policy, and I don’t regret becoming more invested in global affairs. But becoming a diplomat is so much more than taking an interest in other countries.
This summer at the Ohio EPA, I’ve realized it’s more about what you say, when you say it, that matters. Sometimes, it’s only a portion of what you know that’s acceptable –– not the incomplete, imperfect, unpolished version of the truth.
And again, after investing more of my energies into traditional public relations, I’ve realized that it’s more about the image of the company or the brand that matters most –– what you market instead of what you, as the marketer, feel.
Morally, I struggle with these three potential futures for myself. Because, at the end of the day, who would I be when I stripped off the work facade? An imposter? A fraud? A liar?
I don’t want to live anything but the truth –– my truth. There comes a time in everyone’s life when she must honor honesty and let it prevail above all other options. At this point, I am ready to embrace that reality.
Being true to myself –– my conscience, my strengths, my passions –– is what’s most important. That’s what I hope to get right over these next four years: end with something that makes me proud of myself –– not what my classmates thought was right, not what my logical left brain thought was safe.
No. What I feel comfortable with, what I feel invested in, what I feel passionate about. What I can be honest with myself, for my whole life, about.
That’s it. So here’s hoping the stars will align over the next few months, or so.
Athens, I hope you welcome me back with open arms, because I’m coming for you –– fires burning, speedometer racing. It’s ‘go’ time.
Until next month,
BNB, xo
This post also appears on labellamemoir.tumblr.com
Bethany N. Bella 