This elephant has incredible strength. // She can uproot a tree / with her trunk alone. // Yet she will remain in captivity, / held by only a light rope. // Despite her ability to easily break away, / she doesn’t even try. // Why? // It starts when she is young. // She is first tied down when she is small / and not yet strong enough to break the rope. // She will try at first, / try as hard as she can to break free, / and try and try, / but eventually realize / she can’t. // Suddenly, / something attaches itself to her / that is stronger than any rope / or chain / or fence. // It’s the belief / that she can’t break free. // It’s this belief / that holds her back / — despite her ability. // I’ve had these same beliefs /— you may have too — / beliefs that held me back, / beliefs that led me to feel / unfulfilled in my work, / to struggle in my relationships / and to live a life that was far / from the one / I am living now. // It was only when I became aware of my ropes / and actively pulled against them / that I found myself in a different reality. // How do you break the ropes that tie you down? // Don’t believe / everything you think. // When I was six years old, / I had a favorite baby sitter, / Amber. // One morning, / my mother told me we couldn’t have her babysit / because she didn’t have enough money to pay her. // So that afternoon, / I started my first company. // I gathered rocks from around the neighborhood, / painted them with my art set, / and went door to door, / selling them to our neighbors. // That night, / it was Amber and I on the couch together. //

When I was young, / I was bold, outgoing and fearless. // I wore what I wanted / or didn’t want to wear, / guided by my own voice / that told me what would make me happy. // I was also in love. // His name was Fernando, / and he was wonderful. // As with everything else, / I wasn’t afraid to grab him / with both hands. // As I grew older, / this picture started to fade. // My exuberance / was replaced with timidness, / my leadership with conformity, / my boldness with fear. // I don’t think any of us leave childhood / without some ropes / despite our parents’ best intentions. // I grew up with a mother who was determined / to give me the perfect life. // Armed with love / and good intentions, / she did everything for me / to help me be perfect. // I’d pack a suitcase to go on a school trip, / and she’d unpack it / and repack it in a more perfect way. // I’d be ready to turn in a school art project, / and then she’d add her own brush strokes to make it better. // Later she told me when my choice of boyfriend / or apartment / wasn’t good enough. // Although she just wanted / what was best for me, / I stopped knowing what was best for me. // An unconscious rope / was formed. // I shouldn’t trust my own voice / and my own ability, / and I feared / not being perfect. // Other ropes attached themselves too. // I grew up in a family filled / with yelling, / loud voices / and strong opinions. // To keep the peace, / I learned to stay quiet, / to not rock the boat, / to become invisible. // In school, / I came to believe it’s more important to blend in / than stand out. // And the pain of an early heartbreak / led me to hold back in my relationships / so I could avoid getting hurt. // I’m not good enough. // Don’t speak up. // Don’t stand out. // Fear failure. // These were my ropes. // This isn’t just my story. // Like the elephant, / we all come to believe certain things in childhood / that weren’t true / — or at least are no longer true. // But we still live with them as if they are. //