Living Without Inhibition
About a week ago, my entirely uninhibited four-year-old sister, Cayla, was singing loudly in the car to her favorite song and paused to bluntly state: “I don’t care if you think I’m a bad singer, I like singing anyway.” Cayla is not your typical little girl: she hates frilly clothes but loves bugs, trucks and action figures. You may think she looks up to me, but in many ways, I look up to her. She possesses the qualities I wish I had: she is independent, incredibly confident, fiercely opinionated, and doesn’t care what anyone thinks. Her independence is shown by her determination to conquer anything and everything she puts her mind to, even if it seems nearly impossible. She will stack all of her toy boxes up so that she can get something out of her reach and believes she can be a superhero whenever she wants to. Most importantly, she is passionate about the things she loves to do and isn’t afraid of trying new things.
Cayla just got her first Disney princess bike for Christmas. Her face lights up happily whenever her pleading is answered and she gets to ride it down our street. With the wind blowing through her light brown, pig-tailed hair, she rides with a beaming smile spread across her young, innocent face. As I watched her ride it for the first time, with complete and total confidence, I envied her unwavering self-esteem and lack of inhibition.
She is completely unaware of the binding inhibitions I wear around me, causing my self-conscious, unsure mind to close at the idea of trying something new. Whenever I try something new, a swarm of negative thoughts cloud my mind. It is alarming that I would rather not try, than try something new and fail. Whenever Cayla loses control of her bike and falls, she will cry a little but she always stands up, mounts herself on the seat, and tries again without a trace of fear in her eyes; showing impenetrable faith in herself. From Cayla’s example, I see how much more of life I could be living- how much more accepting I could be of myself if I learned to let go, as she does. If I don’t learn to try new things without hesitation, I will be a spectator of my own life. I will forever be a self-conscious person trapped inside the limits of my mind.
I believe in my sister and her self-assured, four-year-old self. I believe that I should emulate the perpetual confidence and courage she lives by. I believe in living life to its fullest- free from the confines of inhibition and fear of failure. This isn’t to say I should shun society, pretend I’m a superhero and act insane, but I believe it is important to try new things without apprehension. Her bike is my fear; her helmet is my confidence. I believe confidence is something I have to learn from my little sister: I’ve got to let go, jump on my bike and ride without the blinding fear of falling.
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