by Agakura Viñas BurihabwaOne childhood memory that stands out for me is that of enjoying Pippi Longstocking in the presence of equally thrilled adults and then, in the next moment, getting into trouble for speaking my mind.
What I couldn’t make sense of as a child, I later embodied as an adult:
Admire strong minded female characters in literature or on TV, from a distance, so to say, but don’t you dare emulate them.
Many of us learnt that authenticity was charming on screen, but risky in real life.
That wit was delightful in stories, but dangerous in a daughter.
That confidence was entertaining - as long as it belonged to someone fictional.
Pippi was unmistakable, unapologetic in her wild creativity and unattached to approval. The complete opposite of how so many of us were raised:
Be toned down, easy to guide, impressive, but not disruptive.
So we internalized a split.
We kept the colourful, unruly, sovereign parts of ourselves safely contained - and led with what was acceptable instead.
Many sensitive, high-achieving women I meet aren’t blocked because they lack talent, clarity, or imagination.
They are blocked because their inner world is a kaleidoscope, and they were taught to present it in grayscale.
Because the parts of them that were once imaginative, loud, decisive, intuitive, and self-led were quietly edited out in the name of being “good.”
What gets lost in that editing is not just expression. It’s orientation.
When you abandon your inner Pippi, you don’t just lose playfulness. You lose your internal reference point.
Coming home to yourself is often less about becoming something new and more about rehabilitating the parts of you that were admired - but never allowed.
If this stirred something familiar - something old and oddly tender - you don’t need to resolve it right now. You may simply be remembering a part of yourself that was never wrong - only inconvenient.
That remembering, too, is a homecoming.
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