I binged on sugar last night.  I have to own it, shamelessly, or I will suffer.  Yes, I will suffer; not because of some superstitious belief that secrets are bad, but because the shame of living two lives is less bearable than accepting an imperfect one.  One imperfect one.

I chose the domain lioness.one because I am learning courage, and living one life.  I'm learning these things by practicing them...I've not found another way to truly know something.

"Not-measuring-up" is one of my specialties.  What I'm not good at is accepting my humanity and life's realities without truck-loads of abusive mental commentary.  Because of this, I am practicing not having a perfect body, perfect sobriety, perfect spirituality, perfect image, or painless experience...and liking it.

Instead of allowing my brain to ruin my life, I'm asking myself questions like: What is perfection?  What is good or right or acceptable?  What is my measuring tape?  Why is there a yardstick in the first place?  Why does self-acceptance feel so dirty and frightening?  Didn't I do all this emotional work years ago?  What the fuck, dude?

I wish I was less egocentric, less narcissistic, but I'm not.  Having to accept that I look like the Rachel, and eat like Rachel, and breathe like Rachel...it's uncomfortable.  It's uncomfortable to my superego*...to the part of me that would rather be envied than happy.  It troubles the insatiable perfection-seeking voice in my brain (gawd, she is such a bitch).

*badass video about id, ego, and superego - jump to minute 3:51

Everyone has one, I assume - an abusively critical mental voice that beats them into a state of having pathetically low self-esteem, "just because."  Mine is the perfect mix of all the maladjusted authority figures I've ever met or seen on TV.  And this is why nothing I do is every enough, this is why my micro-failures are in macro-focus.  I've named this parasitic voice "Raquel."  She'll never be satisfied with regularity.  She is a shaming, self-absorbed, thankless dictator who must be silenced for my sanity.  My whole life journey basically comes down to remembering that I am not who this voice thinks I am - I am Rachel, Sunrise Mountain Lion.

I am Ok, I am just fine.  I am Sunrise Mountain Lion, and this is my roar.