The Day I Sang My Heart Out

When I’m driving, I love looking over and seeing someone singing in their car. They look so free, so alive…and somehow their joy spills over into my lane too.

That was me on Friday.

The sun was shining, the air was finally warm enough to roll the windows down, so I cranked the music and sang my heart out. The song was I'm Coming Out by Diana Ross.

Remember these lyrics…
I want the world to know, I got to let it show…I’m coming out…

As I drove around doing errands, I kept hitting replay. Over and over again. And every single time, it brought me joy.

But I think it touched something even deeper than joy.

It brought me back to the women’s weekend retreat I recently hosted and the feeling that unfolded there — a feeling of freedom. Not the kind that comes from changing who we are, but the kind that comes from finally relaxing enough to simply be ourselves.

We closed the retreat with that song.

As it played, we formed a human train and danced together around the trees, laughing, singing, completely in the moment. It was playful, alive, and sacred.

No one was trying to look good. No one was performing. We were simply being.

And I think that is what made it so powerful.

So many of us carry the belief that we can’t sing, can’t dance, aren’t creative, or somehow need permission to express ourselves fully.

Yet when you watch little children, they don’t stop to wonder if they are good enough before they move, sing, paint, or play.

They simply express.

They are fully themselves.

Somewhere along the way, many of us became self-conscious. We learned to compare. We learned to shape ourselves into who we thought we needed to be in order to be loved, accepted, admired, or enough.

And slowly, without even realizing it, we drift away from our naturalness.

What if healing is less about becoming someone new and more about returning to who we were before all of the conditioning?

“You do not need to change who you are. You need to come home to who you truly are.” — Rebecca Campbell

Because beneath the layers of self-image, striving, comparison, and insecurity lies something deeper.

Our essence.

And our essence is not lacking.

It is whole.
Creative.
Alive.
Boundless.
Free.

The difficult emotions we experience — insecurity, fear, shame, not feeling enough, needing approval — are not signs that something is wrong with us. They are often younger parts of ourselves longing to be seen, loved, and held with compassion.

Through our daily practice, we begin to notice these parts gently rather than judge them. We learn to hold ourselves the way we would hold a dear child — with tenderness, patience, and understanding.

And in that loving awareness, something begins to soften.

Not because we are fixing ourselves.

But because we are finally meeting ourselves with clarity.

After we finished dancing to "I'm Coming Out," we formed a circle. It felt like one big hug, and we were all looking at each other.

And as I looked around at each woman, I saw something so clearly:

Not one of us was the same.

Each woman was a unique expression of the Divine.

It was so touching.

The truth is…

There is no one exactly like you and me in this world.

For so much of my life, I wanted to be like other women. I believed freedom would come when I finally became “enough.”

Enough for others.
Enough for the world.
Enough for myself.

But now I have a different knowing.

Freedom does not come from becoming someone else.

It comes from softening into who we already are.

And perhaps the most healing and transformative thing we can do is to practice meeting ourselves here in the now with love and compassion.

Again and again and again.

With love,

Diane