07 Apr Sometimes I can’t stand her-the ‘good girl’…and a retreat invite

Recovering Good Girl

I introduced myself in a workshop over the weekend:
“My name is Leona. I’m a recovering good girl.”

The room burst into laughter—maybe because it sounded like a support group introduction or maybe because the room was mostly women. But it was knowing laughter. The kind that says, “Oh… I see you. Me too.”

Recently, my sister and I were chatting about something she felt strongly about, and she said, “I’m rebellious. I’m too rebellious to let go of something like that.”

I remember replying, “I don’t have a rebellious part that doesn’t care what people think.”
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I realized… I really don’t.

I wish I did. I admire that rebellious part in her—that fierce “I don’t care what you think” energy.

What I have is a strong “Good Girl” part.
She wants to be liked.
She wants to be good.
She wants everyone around her to feel comfortable.
She wants to fit in.

I met her in grade one. First day of school.
​Am I okay?​
​Am I smart enough?​
​Does my teacher like me?​
She’s been scanning ever since, moulding herself to please, perfect, and perform.

She’s been with me in every season:

• Good mom
• Good wife
• Good-sized body
• Good looking enough
• Don’t rock the boat
• Don’t talk too much
• Fit in
• Make everyone else feel good

smiling like a ‘good girl’

By Friday, I was irritated. I couldn’t shake her.
She was welded into me.

I sat down for breakfast in silence, trying to be generous with myself. A homemade cinnamon bun. Some berries. Yogurt. Granola.

She showed up too.
​What were you thinking?​
​Too many carbs.​
​Better go for a walk.

That morning, I went for a walk.
Not to burn off breakfast but to find some grace.

I walked down to the river, snow falling softly, and all I could think was:
​I don’t want this.​
I don’t want this Good Girl part of me.

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I want to be the wholehearted, Real me.

Even though I’ve felt her fading over the years, she still lingers—especially when I step further into work that feels less “mainstream.” That’s when she gets loud again.

As I sat in the woods, staring up at the tall trees, I said it out loud:
​I don’t want her.

I wanted to tear her from me like fabric, but how do you tear away alomst 50 years of interwoven threads?

And then I heard:
​Love her.

I resisted. Irritated.
She’s pathetic, I said.
She’s a conformist. Docile. Complicit.

But eventually, something in me softened.

She is me.

She protected me from scrutiny.
She kept me safe.
She’s hidden my frayed edges.
She built a shell to shield my tender insides from judgment and rejection.

Brené Brown talks about armor—how it protects us. But it also hides us. People see the persona, not the real person.

The “Good Girl” is one of my personas. It’s part of my armour.

You might have a good person part, or a rebel, or something else.
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None of these parts are bad.

But when they rule us, we lose access to our authenticity.

To our truth.
To our joy.

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I don’t want that; I want to be me. I want to be free.

I imagine you do, too.

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Sometimes, you have to laugh at how the universe uses all of these moments. 😉 As I am extra excited in light of all of this, I will be hosting the Free to Be Me retreat. Where we can become more aware of where we are holding ourselves back and what we need inorder to embrace all of us.

More info here: Free to be Me (1).pdf in Calgary on May 3rd.

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With love and deep gratitude for being part of my journey,

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Leona xo

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