There are few things more painful or lonely in this life than feeling you should be something other than who you are. That ought to be the simplest and most obvious truth, but we live in a world where we are taught to conform. To fall in line, to get with the program, to buck up and fly right, to sit down and shut up. We are taught that there’s a system, and the way it works is that you figure out what you want to “do” (What do you want to be when you grow up? Wouldn’t it be cool if our kids said, “happy”, “fulfilled”, “at peace”, “of service”, “fired up”??) and you go to school for it and you follow the rules and earn a degree and get a job, and hopefully you’ve picked something where you can make $$$money, so you can buy a nice house and a fast car and meet the right person and have a family (a mother, father and at least one kid. But what if you can’t have kids? What if you don’t want kids, or your ideas about domestic bliss are different? What if you like other women? Or men? What if you don’t look like all the people on billboards and television commercials and the covers of magazines? Where’s the road map for you? There isn’t one. What’s the message? Get in line or live on the outskirts, shunned and ignored, or sometimes disdained or condemned or mistreated. But it’s nuts, because the road map everyone else is following leads straight into the hole, too) and go on cruises and retire when you’re 65. Or 67. Or maybe never because, oops, we spent all the money because we’ve been taught to consume, consume, consume. The Consumption Beast is never satisfied. Ever. The system has a big, gaping hole in it, and the hole can never be filled. The hole is called, “What the hell is this? I’m doing everything right and I’m miserable. I guess I’ll try buying bigger better stuff. I guess I must suck. I guess I’m not skinny enough or buff enough or smart enough or something enough to get it together.” The hole is a lie, but you can get stuck in there for a good, long while.

When I was in college I worked in a restaurant with a young guy named Daniel. He was 19 when I met him, just a little older than I was, and had moved to NYC to pursue acting, and also because he was gay and his parents didn’t want him in their house anymore. It breaks my heart to write that, all these years later, having children of my own. He made me laugh with his sharp wit and his detailed notes about what guys like and do not like, and what I should watch out for…and I shared not much of anything useful with him in that regard. But we would stay up late, and sometimes he would cry, even though he knew he was where he needed to be. His parents had sent him for hypnosis to cure him of his “issue” as they called it when he still lived at home, and sometimes he’d laugh about it, but underneath that laughter there was so much raw pain. Rejection is one of the worst feelings there is. And to be rejected by those we need to love us, those we should be able to expect to love us and accept us and celebrate us and embrace us for all we are, that is true heartache. If you want to be at peace, happy, fulfilled, of service, fired up, then you are going to have to be this very amazing, incredible, one-of-a-kind thing called, yourSELF. Seriously. And it is not easy. It means you have to forge your own path and figure out what feels right for you, and stick to it even if it somehow disappoints the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally. You’re going to have to deal with feeling like you must be crazy (you’re not), and walking your path, anyway. You may have to face rejection from those who brought you into this world. You may endure times when you feel very, very alone.

It happens even if those close to us do love us and see us and treasure us. There’s still societal pressure to look right and act right and feel right, but this “right” is a crazy notion. Are we really all supposed to look the same? Are all women meant to starve themselves so they can fit into size zero jeans? And be sweet and kind and nurturing, but never ever get angry, or have a real opinion, or speak up and fight for anything? Are all men supposed to be buff and strong and powerful with money and all the answers and no fear, and no need to stop and ask for directions, and no permission to cry in public, or anywhere else, really, and Come, Jane. Cave, here. WTF?! Can we not take a collective deep breath and throw our heads back and laugh at this pure insanity? Human beings are gorgeous and complicated and full of longing and beauty and joy and confusion and curiosity and total bullsh&t sometimes. Human beings can be cruel and indifferent and self-absorbed, but we can also be kind and full of compassion and tenderness. I’m saying human beings, men, women, we will all feel the full spectrum of emotions. If there’s one thing that’s common to all of us, it’s the need for connection. For understanding. For yes, I see you. I see you there, reading on your laptop or iPad or Smartphone. I see you in your loneliness and pain and hope and questioning and fear and paralysis and bright, shining light. I see you in your darkness and anger and frustration and doubt and shame. I see you as you question whether you’re enough, and also as you realize that you are. I see all of that because it exists in me, also, as it exists in every single person you’re going to encounter today. Be you. Be you. Be you. It’s the only way you can shine. Your light is needed. Sending you so much love. Ally