Sometime back, I listened to a Brene Brown interview in which she described herself as a child. An introverted 13-year-old, she saw Grease 25 times,  a movie I paid to see four weeks in a row at the very same age.

See, like me, Brene wanted desperately to shed her skin and become Olivia Newton John. We–Brene and me, and probably 95% of our eighth grade contemporaries– wanted to look that good in a skin-tight leather catsuit, take up cigarette smoking, and win the love of rebellious John Travolta. We wanted to drop the Nice Girl routine and become the coolest thing walking the planet in stiletto heels.

I’m OK, now, knowing that I suck at smoking cigarettes. That I look decidedly lumpy in catsuits, leather or otherwise. And that John Travolta is never going to be interested in me, which, according to The National Enquirer, is a lucky thing. More importantly, I have come to terms with the fact that I will NEVER be cool.

Cool, if you ask me, looks like an awful lot of work.

It takes a long time to accept yourself for the person that you are. (Believe me, you come face to face with this unpleasant reality when you decide to share your personal stories on the stage or on the page.)

Some of us are still trudging along wishing we were something other than what we are. Expending all that energy. Weaving our covers.  So others can’t see what we see: that we just don’t measure up.
It takes courage to let others see you for who you are, balls of steel.

I’m not going to say a lot about this video by the way of an introduction (assuming you’ve been living under a rock and have no idea who this woman is).  I’m just going to say, you’re welcome.  Because you’re going to end up thanking me. Profusely. Which you should, because that’s the polite thing to do.  For introducing you to this video AND Brene Brown. (by the way, there is no mention of Grease here, so gird yourself for that little disappointment.)