I THINK I may have lost my edge.
I realised that last week.
I looked in my wardrobe and didn’t like half the clothes that currently hang in there. I looked back over a few months work of blog posts and thought much of my work was too ‘safe’.
I looked in the mirror and couldn’t see her. No matter how hard I tried.
I couldn’t see my inner rebel.
Today, it feels like my ‘rebel’ has left my 36 year old building and all I can say is, I want her back. Because I miss her being around.
In my teens and as a young woman, my rebellious streak was renowned. I was opinionated and feisty with a tendency to live life on the edge.
Back in the day, being a little rebel, landed me in plenty of mischief and plenty more trouble. And although there were a few unpleasant years when things became quite dark and bleak, my inner rebel was always there, willing me on.
She got me through.
All the shit, all the hurt, all the pain, all the huge mistakes. She was the one who dragged me out of the gutter and forced me up onto my feet.
Yet, the rebel in me, used to be seen as a ‘bad’ thing, by my mum. And I can’t blame her.
I was the daughter who rolled in at 5am after a night out, just as the sun was coming out. The one who yearned for her own freedom. The daughter who was always determined to do things her way, even if things went horribly wrong.
The rebel. The feisty one. The reckless young woman.
But that rebellious streak within me has always been there, it wasn’t just your usual kind of teenage rebellion. I can see that now as woman in my thirties. That, the hunger to live life on my own terms, has always been there, glowing bright.
Rebellion gets a hard rap. But my Mum was wrong.
Because being a rebel isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It can be a force of good. Even something worth celebrating.
It is thanks to the rebel in me, that I have walked away from people who did not deserve me, ran away from mediocre jobs and dared to dream of a more fulfilling and exciting life.
Sure my inner punk has got me into trouble on occasion, but honestly? I don’t know where I would be, without my bold, feisty friend.
I have never liked ‘safe’ nor ‘easy’.
And yet somehow, of late, that’s how I feel I have been living and working. I’ve become less of the woman I want to be, indeed less of the woman I am.
How did this happen? I don’t really know.
Getting older, becoming a mother and perhaps being too conscious of what people may think, all have something to do with it I guess.
As does, my desire to be ‘nice’. And to be a better person.
Because you see, it’s tricky when you have an inner rebel waiting to burst out. Too much rebellion loses people and gets you in all sorts of bother. Yet too little makes you dull as dishwater.
The battle between ‘the good girl’ and ‘the rebel’ is a tough one to get right. And it’s my own personal battle that I have not yet ever managed to conquer.
The other day I came across a brilliant interview in which the headline took my breath away. Reading these words was like receiving a cold, hard slap across my face:
“How do you be the nice girl, but also the fierce heroine?”
This line. These words. This dilemma. It is the story of my life. How can I be the nice girl, but also the fierce heroine?
How. How. HOW?
Because this is what I’m aiming for. What I’ve always been aiming for. But it’s not easy.
Recently I’ve realised there’s been too much ‘nice’ and not enough ‘fierce’. And it’s made me a duller Kate.
I miss my inner rebel. I miss her bravery and recklessness, in a world in which far too many people play it safe.
And so I’m coaxing her back.
I’m nurturing her and I’m telling her that contrary to what many people think, she’s amazing.
Women are not supposed to be rebellious. We’re not supposed to upset the apple cart. We’re not supposed to speak up, wear what we want, challenge the status quo.
Most people prefer it if we give our mouths shut. Most little girls are told off for being too ‘bossy’.
And the reason? Well it’s very simple.
Rebellious women are a force to be reckoned with. Rebellious women are unforgettable. Rebellious woman get s**t done and live life on their terms.
I ask you, who wouldn’t want to be one of those?!
So from now on, I’m aiming to be rebel with a heart. A good woman, sometimes fierce, mostly kind and hopefully, always courageous.
A little more ‘Kate Moss’ and a little less ‘Kate Middleton’.
This is the aim.
This is the dream.
The other night I spoke to my husband about feeling like I’d lost my edge, and looking puzzled he said this: “But why? I’ve always found your edge to be so attractive. It’s what makes you stand out. It’s what I love about you.”
He is right. And I was wrong.
It is time to bring back the rebel. Watch this space.