This is more than an aha moment. This is an epiphany. And it’s really scary for me.
More consideration and more research. More reflection and deep thought about who I am, who I should have been and who I want to be. I’m starting to see where I’ve gotten off track, and maybe some of the reasons why this has happened.
Like I inferred in the last post, my childhood was…difficult, to use a mild word. My parents divorced when I was five, and I was functionally abandoned by my mother. My father did the best he could, but it was not easy for a divorced single father in the 80s. I remember being little and loving to run and play and dance…and being told to settle down. I remember being shamed for my energy and love of life, for wanting to have fun. And over the years, I think that changed me.
I’m not blaming my father. I know he did the best he could under the circumstances. But what was a happy, lovely, bright child became shy and withdrawn, riddled with stomach troubles and massive anxiety.
I realize now that because of the way I was raised, because of expectations that were put upon me, and because I was forced to grow up so fast (and take care of my sister like a mother would, even though she was a mere year younger than I was), my personality was stifled. I became, well…I made myself a Type 2. Because that’s what was expected of me. Because that’s what my father saw (and still sees) as the epitome of womanliness. And what little girl doesn’t want daddy to be proud of her?
It hurts to write about this. It hurts to reflect on the past like this, and mull it over, and share it with the world in this way.
I’ve been living contrary to my nature for a long, loooong time. Almost thirty years of my life. I’ve been living in my secondary Type 2 since I was seven or eight years old. Even thinking about embracing my true self is kind of terrifying. I’m not sure how to get over the negativity associated with it.
No, I’ve never been a Two, though my personality and reactions are very Two. I learned how to be that way, but it’s not who I truly am. It’ll be difficult, but maybe it’s time to embrace the real me.
~*~*~ Things that helped me come to this realization: ~*~*~
“Here is a great question someone posted on my Facebook page:
“My sister-in-law and I watched your online course last weekend together and we loved it! Thank you so much! My sister-in-law has the face texture/nose of a Type 3, but she identifies with the personality traits of a Type 4. She chose Type 4 as who she is. What do you do when your physical features and personality traits don’t match up?”
Here is my answer:
Your body never lies.
Your body never lies and we adapt our personality and behavior tendencies to our environment and the people in it. I am a Type 3 with a secondary Type 4 that lived a lot in my 4ness as you will learn when you read my book, It’s Just My Nature!, my body is definitely a Type 3. So by what you are telling me your sister probably is a dominant Type 3 if that is what her body is saying. Read the book and it will help sort it all out!
A quick answer to your question is “it means you have not been living your truth most likely and it’s time to start living it!”
A lot of people are not living their true nature and as a result many things are out of balance in their lives. Just like in the world of nature if we alter it’s natural expression it goes out of balance and in to disharmony.”
~*~*~
I’m a Type 1. I see it in my face everywhere. I look JUST like all those primary Type 1 women. I see a lot of mannerisms that are the same as theirs.
But this is really scary stuff, folks. This is really and truly earthshaking for me.
I need to give it more consideration, but I think the truth is that I’m not a 2/1 (which is safer, eh?).
I’m a 1/2. Cheerful, bright, happy, animated, with a childlike love of the world and nature, but still soft and gentle and personable. I’m the blower of bubbles and dandelion fluff. The swinger on swings. The skipper down the sidewalk. The lover of sparkles and kitties and birds on the wing. That’s who I was a long time ago. I wonder if it’s not too late to get that back…
Miss Kitty in Color 