I Am Everything, but Normal – A Revised Version of 2024

A Journey of Self-Discovery and Creative Empowerment

Sep 21, 2024

Standing at the edge of the Augrabies Falls, where the Orange River plunges into the ancient depths of the canyon, I’m reminded of the power of surrendering to the flow of life. Just like these waters carving their path, we are constantly shaping and reshaping ourselves in the vast wilderness within. Photo Credit © Jay Siegmann

Content Warning: This article contains discussions of personal identity, gender transition, and references to trauma recovery. It explores themes of self-discovery and acceptance that some readers may find emotionally stirring.

I Am Everything, but Normal 2024

Somehow, Elizabeth Gilbert had eluded me until recently. I must confess, I don’t usually jump on hypes, so when Eat Pray Love became an international bestseller and later a film, I didn’t read it or watch it. My journey to Gilbert started in a different way, beginning with Brené Brown’s Daring Greatly, a book that reshaped my understanding of vulnerability and courage. From there, I found Prentis Hemphill’s astonishing work What It Takes to Heal, recommended by Brené right before its release, and Prentis’s words deeply resonated with me.

Seeking more of Prentis’s voice, I came across a podcast episode featuring Prentis as a guest with Glennon Doyle, Abby Wambach, and Amanda Doyle. Abby was already familiar to me from her days with the US Women’s National Team—a team I’ve long admired, even when they beat my home country of Germany on the field. But Glennon was new to me. Intrigued by her presence on the podcast, I began to explore her work, eventually diving into her memoir Untamed. I was hooked; Glennon’s fierce honesty, along with Brené’s and Prentis’s wisdom, gave me new impulses and inspiration for my own path. These voices have become role models to me, lighting the way with their courage and authenticity.

So, when I went in search of something else to spark my creativity, it was only natural that I found my way to Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. I’ve long felt that I don’t choose the books I read—they choose me. Each arrives in my life exactly when I need it, like a quiet companion waiting to unfold its wisdom. Big Magic is one of those books. It’s a profound exploration of creativity, courage, and what Gilbert calls the "arrogance of belonging"—the radical permission to believe in your right to exist and express yourself.

For those unfamiliar, Elizabeth Gilbert is a celebrated author best known for her memoir Eat Pray Love, which chronicles her transformative journey through Italy, India, and Indonesia. In Big Magic, however, she moves beyond her own story to offer guidance and encouragement for anyone longing to live a creative life. She challenges us to embrace our curiosity, push past our fears, and give ourselves permission to create simply because we are here. It’s an empowering manifesto for anyone who has ever felt held back by doubt or self-criticism.

This post is my reflection on the impact of Gilbert’s words as I sat at the station square in Hannover, Germany. Her message felt like a lifeline, a call to claim my voice and my place in the world. I invite you to join me in this exploration of belonging, courage, and creative entitlement, and to read my “I Am Everything, but Normal.”

Quote from Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert:
“In order to live this way—free to create, free to explore—you must possess a fierce sense of personal entitlement, which I hope you will learn to cultivate. (…) Creative entitlement simply means believing that you are allowed to be here, and that merely by being here, you are allowed to have a voice and a vision of your own.”

I’m sitting at the station square in Hannover, a missed train behind me, but no rush. I have my book, my coffee, and a view of the statue of Ernst August, the former King of Hannover. The day is bright, and in my ears, Elizabeth Gilbert’s voice fills the air around me as I listen to Big Magic. It’s more than a book; it’s a lifeline, an invitation, and a push toward something I’ve felt stirring in me for a long time. Her words land in me like seeds, planting themselves in the cracks of my doubt and self-protection, urging me to claim my place in this world.

This morning, her words moved me to tears more than once—tears of recognition, of longing, of finally feeling seen. It’s as if she knows exactly where I am, speaking the words I’ve been thirsting for, without the restraint of a systemic coach that leaves me to find them on my own. Sometimes, we just need that voice from outside ourselves, someone bold enough to say what we’ve needed to hear.

Gilbert’s words are like a warm embrace or a much-needed high five—comforting, validating, and empowering. They are like a long-awaited breeze filling my sails after a windless stretch at sea; it doesn’t matter where it comes from, only that it’s there to move me forward. They are the kind of words that feel like an oasis in the desert, a solid handhold on a steep climb, or a railing on a staircase—steadying, guiding, reassuring. In her voice, I hear the echoes of those who measure life not in certificates but in lived experiences, those with winding paths and stories that refuse to fit neatly into boxes.

Surrounded by the busy hum of the station, I feel her words wrap around me, lifting me up in ways I didn’t know I needed. They reach into the hidden corners of my heart, where self-doubt has often taken root. Her concept of “creative entitlement”—the right to exist, to create, and to speak—felt like a hand reaching out to pull me from the shadows. It’s not about arrogance; it’s about allowing myself to be here, fully and without apology.

I think of all the times I’ve silenced myself, talked myself down, or shrunk into the safety of smallness. Gilbert’s words are like a call to arms, a reminder that my voice, my story, and my creative impulses are not just valid—they are necessary. She challenges me to step into the “arrogance of belonging,” to claim my right to this life and to speak my truth, no matter how messy or unconventional it might be.

I sit here filled with gratitude, empathy, and a fierce sense of belonging. I am reminded that I am allowed to be here, allowed to take up space, and allowed to keep discovering who I am. And on the days when the doubts whisper, “Who do you think you are?” I can answer:

“I am everything I am, and I am also everything I am becoming.”

The first version of this piece emerged during a moment of profound personal transformation—a time when I finally stepped from my assigned female identity as Judith and embraced my true self as Jay, a non-binary gender identity I had felt deep inside since I was able to walk. Born in 1967, in a world where non-binary gender was not yet recognized, I had never explored this part of myself. But in 2021, it came rushing out of nowhere, piercing straight to the center of my heart, making me feel whole and complete for the first time in my life.

Gilbert’s words resonate with the canyon-like depth of my own journey, reminding me that every voice, every identity I hold is valid. Revisiting my earlier words, I felt the pull to reflect on how far I’ve come and to capture this layered, evolving self anew. This revised piece is my testament to the arrogance of belonging—a declaration of all I am and all I continue to become.