Embarrassment vs. lack of expression

I used to be very shy. Today, I prefer to risk temporary embarrassment than live with the constant feeling of being unexpressed.

I used to feel “not good enough for this or for that…”

Now, the older I get, the less I care about what people think of me.

Why?

I guess part of it is the pressure of time — like I’m getting older, and the “less time I have to fulfill my dreams,” to tick off things on my bucket list. Yes, that’s part of it.

But there’s a bigger factor that I’ve recently come to understand:

The cringe of temporary embarrassment is nothing compared to the awful compression in your chest when you have things to say, to do, people to love, creations to make — and you just don’t express them.

An unexpressed soul, a repressed body, is far more devastating than an anxious nervous system once in a while.

The self-slavery of adapting to a societal mold, of hiding my intensities, of being controlled by the ghost of perfectionism — is a horrible feeling I am no longer willing to accept as part of my human experience.

People sometimes ask me about bravery.

My very name means courage — Valentina, from Valentia. For many years this has been a big part of my identity, like my ego refusing to ever not do the courageous thing — the self-imposed duty of facing all my demons at once.

But you know what? To be courageous doesn’t mean you have to struggle, facing all your fears as a warrior all the time. Life is not a Marvel movie.

My strategy has shifted. I’ve decided to look at it through a different lens:

I am a woman who knows that whenever I’m afraid of something, that fear is just another emotion — part of the human journey. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than energy to be felt, embraced, and moved through my system.

The story behind it — the narrative — is not necessary.

I treat it with neutrality.

My identity is no longer rooted in the pressure of always being brave.

I’ve found a deeper and greater truth within me:

I am love.

I am loved.

And I love — deeply.

I know Source, and Source knows me.

That is enough.

The more I expand the vibration of love, the less fear I feel.

The less pressure there is to “be brave for this” or “be brave for that.”

It’s not a struggle against something — it’s an invitation to reconnect with the love we already are, and to receive love as our foundational element.

That’s it.

Now, I simply respond to God whenever something arises.

If there’s a feeling in me, something to say, something to create, something to do — God put it there.

So it’s only natural to follow through.

If I’m trembling while doing it, so be it — maybe I just need to soothe my nervous system with a bit more care. But even then, that’s secondary.

The devotion and the love I feel for Source are everything I need.

And I believe that we, artists and creators, have been granted the divine spell of not really being able to repress the intensity inside.

Because it’s meant to be channeled outward — into our creations. Otherwise, the feelings consume us.

It’s a divine orchestration.

We do not control the outcomes.

But we can surely respond to the call of expression — knowing that it is divinely guided, knowing that we are forever safe when we remain in that remembrance.

Nothing more to overthink.