07/30/2026
Doing IFS work was the first time I felt I had real agency over my life.
It introduced me to the parts of myself that had been quietly running the show, parts I had never truly met. I wasn’t in relationship with them. I didn’t know their fears, their strategies, or what they were trying to protect.
As I deepened into that work, I brought it with me everywhere: into my dance, to festivals, to concerts, and into expanded states of consciousness. I learned to notice these parts, get curious about them, feel them, and most importantly, give them permission to be expressed instead of hidden.
I often speak about performing as a nervous system strategy.
When we don’t feel safe being ourselves, we create a version of ourselves that feels safer to present. There is the part of us that feels free enough to express with joy, and there is the part that learns to perform in order to belong.
I know that part intimately.
That was my programming. I became whoever the room needed me to be. I adapted to every environment. I stood for everything, which meant I stood for nothing. I called it being open-minded, and in many ways I am.
But I eventually had to ask myself: when does openness become self-abandonment?
When are we actually experiencing our lives, and when are we simply managing them?
I remember the weight in my shoulders. The knot in my throat. The feeling of watching my own life from a distance instead of inhabiting it.
I behaved in ways that would keep me accepted, or remain quiet. The more I shaped myself around everyone else, the more disconnected I became from myself.
The rooms became fuller, yet I felt lonelier.
Because if you are not sharing your truth, you cannot truly be seen. People may know the version you perform, but they don’t know you.
Authentic expression asks for courage. It asks for responsibility. It asks you to stand for something.
So stand for something worthy of your life, your heart, and your voice.
Performance itself isn’t the problem. It is an art. The question is whether you choose it consciously as an expression of who you are, or unconsciously as protection from who you are.
