There was a time in my life when all I wanted was to fit in—and I was terrified of being alone.
It didn’t matter where—school, work, friend groups, barns, relationships—you name it.
I just wanted to be accepted. Seen. Liked. Safe.
I believed if I could blend in, I’d finally belong. I wouldn’t have to feel so alone.
So I smoothed out my rough edges.
I quieted my truth.
I wore what others wore.
Said what others wanted to hear.
Molded myself into what they needed me to be.
I tried to be light enough to be loved—likeable, helpful, sweet.
Harmless.
But here’s the thing: the more I tried to fit in, the more invisible I became.
The more lonely I became.
I was surrounded by people… yet I felt deeply alone.
And the more I abandoned myself for acceptance, the more I felt like I was slowly disappearing.
Until one day, I just… stopped giving a hoot.
I realized I was never truly alone.
What I had been searching for wasn’t “acceptance” from others—it was acceptance of myself.
So I stopped asking for permission.
Stopped contorting myself into someone I wasn’t.
Stopped dimming my wildness, my fire, my magic.
Because somewhere along the way, I realized:
The people who love me for who I really am?
They don’t need me to be lighter, quieter, or smaller.
They love the full, unicorn version of me.
And the ones who don’t?
They were never my people to begin with.
So now?
I question myself with every interaction:
Am I being me—or who they need me to be?
I wear what I want.
Say what’s true.
Love hard.
Still galloping. Still glowing. Still giving zero hoots,
~Marsha
Horses are my truth. Helping you find yours.
