Part of Your World (Nic's Version)
- Nicole Rose
- Jan 12
- 3 min read
Updated: Mar 30
Bright young wxmen, sick of swimming, ready to stand? Welcome to the Daily Debrief.
As a kid, I’d lose myself in intricate internal worlds filled with patterns, fixations, and trivial knowledge. I’d share them eagerly, hoping someone — anyone — would be as enchanted as I was. But passion is only endearing when it’s socially approved. People tend to tilt their heads, offer a tight smile, and look for an exit when it’s about the wrong thing.
📌 The message sinks in — Shrink. Silence yourself. Repeat.
Over time, you start to wonder if handing over your voice entirely would make things easier. Some rules are easy to learn the hard way, like how safe and small are synonymous in our society — so you do as you observe:
You quiet your voice.
🎵 But who cares?
I want more! I want to be where the people are. 🎶
That’s why you turned the volume down in the first place — at family dinners, at parties, in back-to-back meetings — thinking stillness will help you stand. But quiet isn’t the same as still. Fins flick, twist, and ripple stirring the water in ways that don’t go unnoticed.
No one has to tell you to change. You catch it in the pause after your joke doesn’t land. In the glance that passes between coworkers. In the gentle but pointed, "you think too much," said like it's a favor.
No one says it outright, but it’s clear: still waters are easier to hold.
🎵 Flipping Your Fins, You Don’t Get Too Far
Legs are required for jumping, dancing. 🎶
So, you do it. You trade your fins for legs and your voice for silence. At first, it feels like a fair exchange — the chance to stand, to stay steady. But without your voice, you can’t ask for help. Without your fins, every step feels heavier than the last.
The weight of good enough begins to press harder than you ever expected. The legs you thought would offer freedom start to buckle beneath you. You’re smiling on the outside, but beneath the surface, you’re gasping for air — lungs straining where gills used to be.
🎵Bright Young Wxmen:
Here’s the thing about fins: They grow back. Slowly, quietly, and stubbornly. You’ll be standing still when it hits you — that shift.
The ache in your legs will feel familiar but different. It’s not exhaustion. It’s muscle memory. The first flick of your tail won’t be graceful. It’ll feel clunky — offbeat, unfamiliar. But flick after flick, it will come back. Not all at once, but enough.
One day, maybe without even realizing, you won’t be walking anymore — you’ll be swimming. Moving in a way that finally feels right, and it won’t be about speed or distance:
It’ll be about moving like you were always meant to.
And once you’re finally back in the water, breathing easy and riding the current, you’ll wonder why you ever believed walking like them was something worth chasing.
🎵Out of the Sea?
Walking isn’t the only way to move through the world. And if you’ve experienced the calm and quiet pull of a wave, there’s a part of you that never forgets it. Even when you’re stumbling on legs. Especially when you’re gasping for air.
I’ve sat in both worlds — the one with legs and the one with fins, and here’s what I know:
The water moves differently, but it’s no less steady.
📣 So, to the ladies (and gents and however you choose to identify) with legs: Come take a dip in the ocean. It’s warmer here and we get to move freely.
Welcome to the Daily Debrief. I don't know where we're going but we've begun, and I hope you join the journey! ✨
<3 Nic
recovering workaholic
Comments