I once heard a young girl say to her friend, God, I wish I knew who I really was. Life would be so much simpler. I felt the ache in her words. I know that longing well.
After a lifetime of trying to be more palatable, adapting to others’ needs, I too have spent years just wanting to know who I am.
The only way I’ve managed is by letting everything I’m not fall away, slowly, often painfully. I’ve learned to look inward for cues: what feels right, what doesn’t…instead of molding myself after others.
The same is true when I make something with my hands. When I began this piece, I wanted it to be louder, brighter, bigger. I wanted it to impress. But it kept asking me to stay still, to become smaller, to come down to the ground.
Its energy wasn’t a spectacle. It wasn’t meant to be showy and performative. It was a dirt floor to be stepped on barefoot. A quiet thing that held my truth. Like me, it asked to be real.
So I kept it close to the flame I now protect. This small but steady sense of self I’m building. My place in the world. The only place I need.
Barefoot Ring.
Handmade with malachite and recycled sterling silver.