I admire those who seldom self-police themselves. They are themselves without apologies.
I, on the other hand, self-police too much. I’m that person thinking, I’d like to ask that random fashionably dressed old lady I pass daily on my way to work If I could take a picture with her without feeling all stalkerish; I’d like to wear bright red lipstick to the office without the investment-banking-suits wondering, who let the hooker in; I’d like to wear the leopard tights without thinking this print looks way too loud on my oh-so-junk-in-the-trunk booty; and most of all, I’d like to make all that naughty food— you know the one that spends a moment on your lips and a lifetime on your hips—and enjoy it without wondering how will I fit into that damn white dress in 9 months!
So I woke up, went down to the corner supermarket, and hogged all the milk, butter, cheese and pasta I could and went straight into the kitchen for my first try at a cheesy, gooey, comforting bowl of homemade mac ‘n’ cheese. Made my first ever béchamel sauce. Got lost in sharp cheddar marrying velvety cream. Marveled at the bubbly goodness straight out the oven. Took the first bite—my insides dancing with glee—and enjoyed my favorite part, the crusty cheesy top.
A thought awoke me, I grabbed hold of it, saw it through, and not only did my belly swell with comfort, but my mind and spirit were satiated with accomplishment.
Moral of the story, stop self-policing yourself so dang much, it can hinder your growth.