I wanna tell us all that it’s time to feel comfortable in our own skin. But then I realize that it’s also necessary to outgrow skins and shed them. We go through times when we are not comfortable in our own skin, and discomfort, while, well, uncomfortable, can become a deeply meaningful, valuable part of our process. Being comfortable in who we are, in our bodies, in our choices is crucial for our well being. Being uncomfortable? That’s important too. Because growing and learning are not comfortable endeavors. We need to feel loved, supported, cared for, embraced, triggered, irritated, enraged, discontent. To be alive in your skin is to learn to become a container that knows how to hold the full spectrum of human experience.

We are spiralic beings. We cycle through times of release, and seasons of building, experiences that break us, and periods of repair. We grieve and gather in gratitude. We fall into despair. And we teach ourselves how to live with loss. We learn to be who we are. And then we unlearn it so that we become our next iteration. 

To be a container of wisdom is to learn how to navigate the waves that flow through us, to know how to weather the storms of life, to know how to tend to the tenderness of being, and deal with the tough going nature of reality. To be alive in your skin is to know how to shape-shift when necessary, while maintaining a deep anchor in your core. To know who you are and change who you are. To see where you’re stuck and recognize your patterns, to redirect the flow and to form new pathways. 

Sometimes we need to do things that require effort. We need to step it up. We need to put ourselves in the stream of an experience that doesn’t feel restful or cozy, in order to get to the other side. In this fire we forge something that we desire. We form something that we need. We learn to become someone who stands tall and leaves room for others, and room to grow.  Incredible literature is not necessarily easy to read. I want to be comfortable in my skin, but I realize that comfort is not the right word for the task. The most meaningful things in life are difficult. Parenting comes to mind.

Speaking of parenting… sometimes we say things as parents, that a moment later we wish we would have said differently. The discomfort of facing our imperfections, our mistakes, the mess that we make – this is how we learn. It’s how we can make changes. The discomfort is what causes us to repattern. I’ll use the example of parenting again; if we develop certain patterns in our relationship with our child, it’s our frustration with ourselves, the agitation that we experience when we realize that we did that thing again, that guides us into a process of making changes. 

We need to face parts of ourselves that we’re uncomfortable with. Sometimes we do things that we regret. The parts of ourselves that make our skin crawl, can become our guides on life’s journey of transformation.

To be alive in your skin is to develop the skill to hold your discomfort and make changes from a place of receptivity and creativity. To be confident and to know our flaws. To be humble and know our worth. To let our disappointments in ourselves become building blocks in our character’s development. 

I want to be strong and soft. Sensitive and confident. Open and rooted. It’s really important for me to be honest, and sometimes that stands in contrast to my desire to be respectful. To be alive in my skin feels like the ability to hold complexity, to be more than one thing, to live with nuance, with less answers, with paradox, with dichotomy. For me, this is what builds character. This is what cultivates deeper meaning, and fuller, broader ingenuity. 

To live in your skin is to be fluid as who you are, rooted in who you are, spacious with yourself as you change who you are. It’s to breathe who you are alive every day. It’s to spark renewal and burn to ashes what needs to be transformed.

Further exploration of being alive in your skin

Read this essay about coming home to yourself.  

Watch this video about coming home to yourself.

Read this poem for more inspiration to be alive in your skin. 

Thanks so much for reading this.

Much love,

Hagar