Hello, I'm bored of myself

Our loyalty to ourselves can cock-block thriving...

Nov 28, 2023

Hey Friends! This weeks essay is a free read and I hope you enjoy it.

An exploration into identity and how loyal we become to “This is who I am”.

Then, how that loyalty can cock-block a wave of newness, expansion and thriving, while having us eventually - become bored of ourselves.

Would love for you to share in the comments if you have something to say or offer!

Hope you are all so well, This time of year does tend to get busy and overwhelming so wishing you all a more “true to you” end of year.

As promised, I have a live call coming up next week (it hasn’t been promoted yet, don’t worry, but keep an eye out over the next few days) - for those who enjoyed my "Look dad, I'm a paid writer" post. The first part of that share was the written, the second part is a live QNA style mini workshop type thing. It’s casual, but a way for those of you to come hang out if you’re curious about growing on the Substack platform, and want to get amongst the good vibes.

Next year I’ll begin offering online monthly workshops on all things creativity, motherhood, and soulful business. These mainly WONT be Substack specific, As I want to nourish the entire community of Mother Makers, though most concepts will be applicable to all crafts from podcasting, event hosting, writing, dance, painting, spoken word poetry, homemaking, self employment and more.

Make sure to subscribe (for free) if that interests you at all so that you don’t miss any announcements.

Scroll down to read this weeks essay. xx

Love Kat

Hello, I’m bored of myself.

I mean, I also I like myself.

I do.

I assume that’s supposed to happen as we get older right?

We learn to like ourselves. Or at the very least, learn that loving ourselves doesn’t actually mean loving all of ourselves, but instead being truly okay with not always being okay with ourselves, and finding honest acceptance in that.

I’ve worked hard over the years to arrive at a place of self enjoyment.

Though I can’t quite tell if I’ve finally arrived at a sense of self acceptance,

Or,

If it’s motherhood and the normalised lack of time alone, that has me really, really enjoying the time I spend with just me.

I enjoy myself, and *Insert paradox here*

I’m also bored.

I don’t know about you, but I can never “be someone” for too long. I know that implies that I’m being someone other than myself.

You’ll likely give me great advice of “Just be yourself Kat” and all will be well.

However, here’s the glitch.

The self is an ongoing construct.

Memory isn’t actually linear, or absolute.

Identity reveals itself as we learn more.

We are meaning making machines (Alongside very spirited beings of course)

That to me implies that as we gather more meaning, we change.

We grow.

We evolve.

Someone somewhere said “To not grow, is to die” Right?

If we don’t allow ourselves the space to transform. We become stagnant.

What I call - Bored of myself.

Look, We could accumulate ourselves into the perfect versions of what we feel to be true.

We could live in alignment with every one of our values. We could be our most honest selves… and over time, We would still get bored. Not because any of that is incorrect, but simply because being anything for too long still has us curious enough to taste the rest of the fruit on the tree. The desire for progression is a human need - not always a bypassing of what’s right in front of you.

Before I became a mother, I was, like many of us, wild and free. I still see myself in this way, I just don’t act accordingly. There’s a gap.

I feel free within mothering. I feel wild in my inner rebellion.

Externally, my pre-mothering days were filled with spontaneity and self expression.

I became a mother because I was bored of the freedom of the maiden (Oh how adorably naive of me. *Sigh*) I recognised something within other mothers that I wanted. Even if they were sleep deprived and burnt out. I could see it in their eyes.

A wisdom,

a knowing,

and a love like no other.

I wanted it. I stand by my case.

I became a mother and it was the catalyst for the deepest and most healing change of my life. It was also the catalyst for a lot of inner frustration about how I could express in the world, and I found that the frustration burnt up within me like a wildfire and only left what was true behind.

Naturally, rites of passages create a before and an after.

The you before hand.

The physical and emotional challenge.

The coming out the other side with a deepened sense of self trust because you made it. You survived. Then a honouring of all the qualities you had to become in order to move through what you did.

It doesn’t end there though. An important aspect to complete a rite of passage is the return to community.

To be acknowledged, seen and held as your new self rather than the old. It’s not to say the old self doesn’t still exist. We of course must hold reverence for our entire journey up until this point… (Which also means holding reverence for who we are RIGHT NOW knowing you are contributing to your future story).

The return.

Your new self.

Must be held and acknowledged for the rite of passage to feel complete.

This is hugely missing in western culture, and I’d so love to write an entire essay simply on rites of passage and the huge gap that is left behind for many westerners, which leads to so many of us literally feeling incomplete.

So many of us have half walked a really, really deep rite of passage that is birth.

We pop out the other side and are expected to “go back to how it was”, when we, at our core, have changed. Something I can notice in many mothers right now, and any time I speak on it, my messages blow up with #relatablecontent and #feels.

Though we are (typically) unsure of how to claim our new self, let alone have time to actually reflect on who that is in that first year or two of the throws of mothering.

I have observed it to be a slow burn. We don’t become new over night. It’s a shedding. Layer by layer. Clothing dropping to the floor until we are naked in the mirror.

When I say I’m bored of myself

It absolutely could be because I have just birthed my second son two months ago. You can read the birth story of Ren Ruah here. It could simply be a natural undressing of all that I’ve known myself to be, though, honestly, it feels deeper than that.

There have been many identities I have adopted as my own. Usually because they align with my values and feel natural.

“Someone like me, lives a life like this.”

This is the self imposed shackles we create for ourselves.

I very rarely wear makeup. I am low maintenance when it comes to appearance.

I never heat or style my hair. I colour it possibly once a year.

Would you believe me if I told you I still have a dress in my cupboard that I bought 12 years ago. It’s incredibly outdated, but I love it and have convinced myself I’ll wear it again. I never do.

I feel like an older millennial even though I just scrape through and could pass as Generation Z.

I also have identities around natural health, trusting the body, intuition and immune systems whenever we can. I don’t wear heels, or shoes often for that matter.

When I birthed my first son in 2020, I used that as an opportunity to slow, right down. I allowed myself to let go of my career as a relationship coach. We lived in the forest, I spent each day with my little boy, dyed my hair back to my natural colour so I didn’t have to upkeep blonde. We simplified our lifestyle and arranged it so that Tully could be at home with us most of the time.

We used the bubble that is pregnancy, and postpartum, to seed new beliefs into mind. The brain is incredibly malleable during this time, which is why we can be so incredibly sensitive. It’s also the best time to redesign belief systems and reconsider what we want.

It’s why if we don’t feel supported then, we will anchor in the belief that we are alone.

If we feel supported, we set ourselves up differently for motherhood.

It’s not to say these beliefs can’t be changed outside of this period… It’s just easier within it.

We simplified and lived slowly, beautifully and abundantly for those first eighteen months. Then, I got bored. I got bored of the perfect boxed life we had created for ourselves even though it was everything we had dreamed of up until that point.

I wanted to explore.
Try something new on.
Even if we hated it.

I completely understand the privilege in this, and I also acknowledge ourselves for working for 10 years on setting up a lifestyle where we can explore ourselves when these surges come.

We put everything into storage and bought a tiny 16ft caravan and moved into it.

4 months later we knew that wasn’t for us, but I love that we tried. I love that we gave it a chance just to see.

By the end of the year I needed to shake life up again.

We booked a one way ticket to the other side of the country, leaving two weeks from then, with no house, no plan. Just trust that it would shake up the energy of our life enough for newness to move in. Trusting that a leap of faith would result in us being caught but the net below.

It paid off.

The woman who moved across the country 22 months ago, is not the same woman writing this now.

To throw ourselves into the fire and see who walks out.

It was in the last 22 months of life that I have felt a completion with the season of slowness I was in.

I mean, I’ll always advocate for slower and intentional. I do believe we are way too fast as a general society.

I had committed to the identity of having really spiritually connected pregnancies. Associated myself as an intuitive who was always incredibly connected.

Slow slow postpartum.

The identity of a career on hold for the first year of a new life.

Sexuality on the slower burn and less of a priority.

Though an increase of priority into my emotional intimacy with Tully.

I committed to survival mode in the first year of parenthood.

A soft year of little movement, of Kapha energy (in Ayurveda).

Of warm nourishing foods.

Of mum buns and oversized t-shits and bike shorts (The ultimate mum uniform in my opinion)

A finding of myself again.

That was then.

I was willing to do it all over again with my second pregnancy.

Though through a humbling pregnancy that didn’t feel as connected spiritually, I learned I could still birth powerfully, even with fear. That I didn’t have to be fearless to birth. And I didn’t have to be constantly tapped in intuitively to be receiving guidance.

We have been incredibly supported postpartum, but there has also been a really natural speed up of energy. Creatively, in conversations, and naturally following after a toddler each day.

I could resist it. Chanting to myself “Slow 40 days, slow 40 days”. Though instead I’ve allowed for beliefs to shift, I’ve embraced the natural surges. Some days are slow. Some days are fast.

Though as I sit and truly reflect…

I felt into if any of that was true for me, or if this building of energy I could feel within… The boredom I had within myself, the boredom for all the past beliefs that I associated as me, was guiding me somewhere new. I could choose to keep my heels in the ground and remain loyal to identities that HAD served me up until this point. OR, I could open myself to change and see what magic was waiting for me.

I announced excitedly to Tully,

“Babe, let’s make this year the most vibrant we’ve ever felt. Let’s get into our thrive life. It can be our “Hot parent era”.

Of course, He’s keen. He’s always keen on all of my ideas other than seasonally moving the house around. That’s the one he gets stuck on, especially as I’m directing the couch around the room… but he never regrets.

I reflect on my resistance to exercise over the last 7 years I’ve known him. Tully is an ex physiotherapist so you can imagine the patience he’s had to hold in order to be with my stubborn self.

(Even that. Do I want to remain stubborn as “who I am” or could I change that if I wanted to? Could I associate myself as more fluid?)

I decide that I want to sprint again. It’s been 10 years. I want to join a volleyball team, and I want to work out on a Sunday morning at the local park with my friends.

For anyone who knows me, this is wild.

I feel like it’s a crucial gateway into a new experience of life for me.

I love that shaking up the energy can do that.

I wonder what would happen if more of us decided to simply start doing the opposite to what we normally do.

Not always to change, but to simply explore. What if we were less rigid and allowed ourselves some grace rather than settling into “This is who I am, forever” at 35.

I look down to my badly bitten nails. The first and last time I ever had acrylics was for my wedding.

I don’t agree with the chemicals or the process to get them.

But maybe, I’ll experiment and try them on?

I also don’t agree with lash extensions as I much prefer natural beauty and don’t like to subscribe to the weird beauty standards of the world. But fuck it, maybe you’ll see my rocking up to bushschool pick up with luscious lashes.

I love my hair brown, but I’m bored. I miss my bright pink hair. My orange hair. My peach hair. My platinum hair.

I don’t miss my short hair. That was an experiment I’m happy not to repeat (Though, every few years I fall into my own trap) (Please feel free to remind me, never to do that again.)

Theres this idea that sex becomes the lesser priority as new parents.

Though, I know that when we are having regular, great sex, the rest of our life becomes so much more juicy and delicious. We see opportunities differently, it’s as if we develop the midas touch. We see each other differently, our children differently, everything.

So why not commit to a version of sexual liberation in our

first year of parenthood all over again?

Do I truly want to subscribe to sexuality not being a focus for the first year of mothering all over again? Will that serve our family, or not?

All of these identity points are simply to explore what’s available beyond the self imposed rules of who I should be according to who I’ve been.

What if there’s more available for all of us beyond these micro pivots of our lives?

What if we closed the gap between our inward experiences and our outward expressions? Tried on some new identities? Like an epic dress up party.

That’s the thing, they don’t have to be drastic.

One percent every day, will cast us on a significant trajectory that we will bare witness to in a few years time.

What if we simply start shaking the micro opportunities up?

Start going to a new cafe, and sitting in a new spot?

Sleeping on the opposite side of the bed *the crown gasps*

Selling or donating half of your beige wardrobe and introducing bright colours… or the opposite?

Wearing your favourite outfits on regular days?

(Did I go to bush school pick up in my bright multicoloured pyjamas because I was comfortable and it was fun? Yes. Yes I did.)

Choosing caffeine rather than herbal tea… or Herbal tea rather than the normal coffee?

Jump in the car and go on a spontaneous road trip with the kids at 3am one morning because you are the adult and can actually decide to be spontaneous in any moment you choose?

Make out with your partner unexpectedly, especially in the middle of a disagreement. Just to shake it up. Why not?

Colour your hair, get your nose pierced, get a tattoo.

Career jump just for a laugh.

What would be all the things you would do and experience… if you weren’t already doing and experiencing exactly what you are now?

Make space for newness.

Especially as mothers,

Where we naturally, can sink into the everyday mundane and then feel like we’ve lost ourselves.

We scramble to find ourselves again, clawing our way back through the womb portal we just traveled and into our former selves. But we can’t. The veil is closed once again and the only way to find ourselves is to become ourselves.

The only way to become ourselves is to move who we have been, off to the side and step into the void it creates… Of if you prefer a more dramatic approach, burn it all to the ground and see what’s left.

I once saw a quote that said something along the lines of “An entirely new life is always only a decision away”. I know that concept is incredibly nuanced, but I like the theory.

Big dramatic decisions like flying across the country into a new life, new community, new home and starting fresh, forcing everything to become brand new, like a canvas ready to be painted on. It’s an opportunity to recreate the self, reconsider values in life, and challenge past identities. It creates a huge void ready to be filled with newness, and when you can intentionally guide that newness, life completely changes.

Or micro decisions like driving 15 minutes to a new cafe… then running into a friend you’ve not seen in 10 years, which leads to an epic collaboration.

Or shifting the way you dress, therefore how you see yourself in the mirror.

Or ditching coffee and associating yourself as someone with a calm and reset nervous system for the first time?

These the ways we pave a path into newness, fulfilment and to no longer find ourselves boring.

I’ve recently decided I want to be a sensual, hot, energetic, healthy, wealthy… writer… creative… community creator, wifey and mother.

I want to be a present mama with a smile on my face and a whole bunch of inner resource to offer my beautiful children. I want to be incredibly turned on my by life, my husband, and myself.

I want to feel the best I’ve felt, and explore my appearance and expression into the world outside of the classic disheveled mama identity I’ve claimed as my own.

I want to re-invite my sassy, innocent self back to centre stage, with a bunch of inappropriate jokes and big energy. I miss that self, even though I’ve loved the slow and centered me.

I even want to reconsider my beliefs around business, money, sales.

Can a business truly thrive without folding to a capitalist lens?

Could a business thrive and pulse with a matriarchal foundation of honouring seasons over consistency? Am I willing to do the inner work to truly allow that into my life?

I’ve been bored of myself as I am, not because I don’t like who I am, but because I know there are so many possibilities for thriving outside of the boxes I find myself comfortable in.

There is poetry I wrote after my first was born, and of course, it’s become incredibly relevant again. I’d love to share.

I had been craving something, to reawaken the "aliveness" that I had forgotten. I had slid down the damp moss covered stones into the slipstream of mundane. Creating small whirlpools of chaos to keep the embers from going out inside.

Chaos looked like inviting too much into my week

So I'd feel overwhelmed.

It looked like filling my head with social media and wondering why I felt so drained.

Chaos looked like holding my tongue and caging my words, so that later I could complain about the exact conversation where I could have had the courage to stand my ground.

Chaos was alluring in her small seductions each day.

Keeping me alive enough to feel the discomfort in ignoring my intuition and inner guidance, but comfortable enough to stay in the familiarity

of where I was.

Keeping me disconnected enough,

so that with an arm outstretched, I couldn't quite grasp myself.

But that's when I looked down,

At the red thread.

A red thread within the mundaneness of life.

The subtle red thread that

Whispering my name over and over

And that I could no longer ignore.

A read thread coated in my secret curiosities that I thought were long forgotten.

I knew it would lead me

Into something new.

No.

Something

alive.

But to reach it

I had to let go.

So l did, and I fell.

I now walk slowly down, a road I've not traveled, in this way before.

Collecting layers of the thread around my wrist as I go deeper into my inner unknown.

Watching as the world morphs around me and my mind is shattering in ways that makes a good girl cry but a woman breathe deep in remembrance of her fire and magic.

At what point

Are you going to give yourself

The time of day

To really feel who you are?

What is the cosmic mashup

For you to say, okay

Now is the right time

To learn myself fully,

to dive deep into self exploration

and to bring myself into a confidence

I never knew existed.

For you, is it the point

Of a break up,

A break down,

Shattered spirit

And constant chaos

To finally say

Okay, enough is enough.

NOW is the time.

Do you have to shake yourself awake

every time your body, your soul, your spirit

is on the brink of a recalibration?

Or do you give yourself the time of day

every day,

To go somewhere new.

Do you celebrate, and educate,

and intentionally learn

who is you?

We know ourselves through pain and we know ourselves through pleasure.

The beauty of the human experience is that we dance between both polarities...

Yet

Sometimes

I still wonder

If we get addicted to receiving

The guidance of our god

When shit hits the fan

Rather than

When it's all going to plan

I’d love to read your thoughts and considerations about this topic… Which parts of yourself are you bored of? Which identities are you willing to challenge to make space for newness?

Come chat