All my life I have been a Bull. I can stand on my own two feet. I can deal with adversity. I can work harder and longer. I can provide for those that I love regardless of what’s happening in the world. I can sleep less, drink more, travel further, take more knocks and keep bouncing back. Because I am a Bull.
But now I have had enough. It’s exhausting. And it is not me. I’m not sure where this pseudo characterization came from. I can only guess that being born in 1968 I wasn’t given many role models beyond alpha. Silent and brooding but always in control. But it turns out; not always happy. Joining the army at age 16; any doubt of what a male persona should look like was soon vanquished.
You can deal with anything and then suck it up and ask for more. Showing weakness was a death nail. Asking for help; societal suicide. It’s no wonder, with our upbringing, so many of us have wrestled with how we can be ourselves when ourselves is anything like how society shaped us. For most of us, it’s quite a challenge to let go of what has made us who we are. Obviously, we have rightly adapted our behaviour and language patterns over the last 30 years as society and ourselves have changed.
Outwardly most of us have done a good job. But inwardly I wonder. I no longer want to be the Bull. I don’t want to have all the answers. I don’t want to be hugely resourceful. I don’t want to be stable and consistent. I don’t want to have to dig deep and deliver. And I don’t think I am alone. I want to be vulnerable.
I want to be authentic. I want to buckle. I want to struggle and give in. I want to ask for help.
And - I want to be messy. Not all the time… But just sometimes. I find it bizarrely hard. There are so many bulls in this world that don’t want to be bulls anymore, and yet we struggle to shake off the imprint made decades ago. If we can just be ourselves; I think there’d be more rainbows and unicorns. Not a moan. I am hugely lucky and deeply grateful for my life. But certainly a ponder I am finding rich if vexing.