THE HISTORY

Back in the 1980’s, while in the fourth grade, while learning about Mexican Amate Paper Paintings, I created art that took my imagination to a place of unheard-of birds, heart-shaped plants, and bright yellow clouds. My art teacher, Mrs. Kazenelski, put my painting up in the hallway for open house. I was so proud. I imagine Little Gina felt really seen in that space.

As I grew up, and paired with the pain of comparison and unprocessed trauma, there was so much outside messaging, so many magazine stories and ads, movies and television, the media, and even well-meaning people in my life that told me how to look, act, and handle my feelings. The outside world seemed to know exactly how to tell me to fit into a mold that was never mine. The older I got, the stronger those messages became. There was messaging around every corner insisting that women aren't good enough exactly as they are, which made it easy to get lost in it.

Then, years later, I found the Mexican Amate Paper painting in an old box of artwork my mom and dad had saved. Now in my late forties, with almost 20 years of therapy and a partial hospitalization in a complex anxiety and OCD program, I really reflected on how the age-old saying, "she really let herself go," was such a negative way to talk about women, often without really knowing anything about their story. I became curious about creating something that would give new meaning to that outdated phrase.

I took a good look at the painting- fascinated by the details. What did it mean to 47-year-old me? How was this old piece of artwork speaking to my heart? The bird I drew was different from others I had known, and it was in a strange, new land of bold colors, golden clouds, and heart-shaped plants. I believe we, as women who choose to show up for ourselves, are sometimes in a strange, new land. The black outlines throughout the painting seemed to represent the difficult parts of life and how they coexist with the color. I could feel deep pain from years of suppressing my own voice and the joy in the possibilities ahead.

I knew the painting would be the foundation for the She Really Let Herself Go Project. The curious bird from the painting seemed to have a message for me.

So the bluebird shared a song of awareness. A way to listen for the sound of my own heart from within the chaos of everyday life. One with a message of self-compassion, of owning my evolution, of celebrating my strengths, and of practicing gratitude for myself, for all I am thankful for in my life, and for the sisters on this path alongside me. That would be the bluebird’s song. Something I could come back to over and over. I didn't need to wait for the bluebird to show up again. The bluebird was always there.

The bluebird’s SONG helps me come back to the idea of really letting myself go — physically, to the places that help me feel connected, and to redefine, as a woman, what it means to really let go. 

Here is the bluebird’s song:

S- Self-Compassion

Owning our Evolution

N- Naming our Strengths

G- Gratitude.

I feel it’s important to note that some days, I can barely see that goodness in myself, where I feel ugly and not good enough at all, and the bluebird’s message can be a powerful reminder of my capacity to look inward and become curious about my journey. And sometimes I don’t remember the bluebird’s song at all, and that's ok too. Life is full of imperfections, restful moments, and small steps towards more awareness. Growth isn’t linear, progress can be messy and rewarding, and those of us in the She Really Let Herself Go community acknowledge our fellow sisters in this space. We are all at different points in our journeys, and we can each bring something valuable to this community of empowered women.

Check out the Bluebird’s Song section of this website for more information.

Check out the Bluebird’s Wings section of this website to learn more.