When the pressure of expectations get too much

An exploration of the limitations felt by the pressure of internal and external expectations.

I desire freedom more than anything else.

Yet – what is this feeling? This restlessness, angst and irritation. I get angry easily and I throw things. I cry at the drop of a hat. I wish to scream, to tear out my hair and to scratch at my skin. I do not wish to hurt myself, I only want to release this hurricane inside.

This must be the way a bird feels, trapped in a cage. The wings won’t stop – they long for the space that signals their freedom. The energy of their suppressed flight is dense and all-consuming. There is no outlet, only an impression of squishing and tightening in an effort to squash the tendency those wings have to expand. That unused energy is suffocating, for it cannot be restrained. Restrain it too long, and that could very well be the end of you.

If I were a bird in a cage, then my wings are either especially large or built to encourage a very fast flight. The trapped energy that I feel has speed to it. I struggle to settle my mind, which runs at a hundred miles a minute. This could perhaps be the speed of a very, very fast vehicle taking me to faraway places of adventure, while my physical body remains here, sedentary. Stuck.

I want to be free! Well, innately, I am free. Therefore, I must want to break free. I am Freddie Mercury, seeking to live a life that is well beyond my current state of reality. I wish to break that cage, smash it to pieces, and burst forth loudly in a flourish of light, speed and excellence. I wish to feel overwhelmingly alive. I wish to feel free.

I’m tired of being who everyone wants me to be. Actually, I’m tired of being who I want me to be. I’m tired of trying to fit the various moulds or personas that I’ve carried in my mind all these years. ‘If I’m like this, then this person will love me … This person likes it if I’m like this … This other person will reject me if I don’t act like this.’ The expectations are stifling. They break my wings. 

When my mind is quiet and my soul is allowed to speak, it tells quite a different story. My soul doesn’t have expectations, it has only desires. These desires are gentle and suggestive. They do not demand action and they do not threaten to strip me of my worth if I choose not to pursue them. These desires (or longings) are for my happiness only; they are the very epitome of ‘follow your joy.’ They are not to satisfy my perception of others needs and wants in relation to Sarah Moon and who Sarah Moon must be.

All of these ideas of who I must be to be successful, to be loved and to belong – they have slowly been killing me. I care too greatly, and if I don’t stop now, then I fear it will be my undoing. It already undoes me, in the quieter times, when I am still and silent and can feel the consequences of the way in which I have been choosing to conduct myself. Everything is for the others, for their validation and love. Do they know that they are meant to be validating me? Probably not.

This energy that has been brewing (this spreading of wings) is a call for surrender. I open my mouth and a voice erupts, loud and clear. I scream, gesturing wildly to the heavens:

I have had enough! I do not want to do this any more. I want it to be simple; I want it to be fun; I want to be free! Let me go. Let me go, now, so that I can be who I have always actually wanted to be. This is not who I am. I do not want to be this anymore. It is making me deeply unhappy.

As it releases, all goes quiet. A subtle sense of emptiness and a hint of inspiration remain. Above all, there is relief. God, could it be that I can actually live life just for myself? I do not have to live it for anybody else?

There is a catch. I have spent so many years leaning in to those perceptions of who I need to be, that any ideas of who I could otherwise be are vague. I need to get to know myself. I need to greet myself like an old friend, and catch up on all the happenings of the past 20 years or so. Who are you? Who am I? Who could I be? Who could I be … That is the question, for really, the possibilities are endless. By choosing to live by one set of standards, we limit our potential. There are so many different paths we could take. I could be anyone.

I wish to lean in another direction, and that is towards a self that only I can truly know.

The suppression will kill me quicker than an observing crowd. For here’s the secret: The observing crowd (the rest of you out there) probably don’t care about me nearly as much as I think you do. I deprive myself more than I will likely upset any one of you, and I am sick of being starved.

I just want to be me, and for that to be enough.