Savannah's Art of Being a Cat - Never Apologize for Who You Are

Be You!

If you've ever had a Maine Coon, you know there will be moments. Moments where he or she does something completely outrageous, and then looks at you like you're the one with the problem.

Savannah had one of those moments recently.

I looked out onto the screened porch and there she was. Standing on the arm of the chair. Not sitting, standing. One of her big paws was slightly raised, her tail was curved up like a little (well big actually) question mark, looking outside with the attitude of someone who has decided the world is hers. When she saw me, I got that look.

She wasn't asking for permission.

She wasn't checking to see if this was okay.

She was just... her. Completely, unapologetically her. 100%

And she was looking at me like she was daring me to tell her she was doing something wrong.

It was adorable. The light was shining on her fur like the universe had agreed to cooperate with her vibe. (Even the light knew better than to argue with Savannah.)

I stood there watching her for a minute, then I laughed as I realized something.

She has never once — not for a single second — wondered if she's too much.

Too fluffy. Too loud. Too dramatic. (And she is dramatic.) Too bold. Too curious. Too in the way.

She just... is. And she is all of it, all the time, without apology. She talks when she wants to, she runs through the house from the front door to the back door, she tries to jump on Pico like he is a horse that she can ride. It's all what she wants, when she wants.

Meanwhile, we spend half our lives quietly editing ourselves.

Toning it down in meetings. Laughing a little softer. Taking up a little less space. Saying "sorry" before we've even finished a sentence. Wondering if we're coming on too strong, too sensitive, too opinionated, too something.

Savannah would find all of that deeply confusing.

So this got me to thinking. There's a big difference between growing and shrinking.

Growth is beautiful. It's leaning into feedback, softening where you've been rigid, expanding beyond what you thought you were capable of. I'm all for it.

But shrinking? That's something else. Shrinking is making yourself smaller so other people feel more comfortable. It's apologizing for your personality like it's an inconvenience. It's standing on the ground when really, you should be standing on the arm of the chair and looking out at everything with that level of quiet confidence.

Savannah never shrinks.

She'll still curl up in your lap in the evening like a warm, purring, slightly inconvenient miracle. She loves her people deeply. But she does it on her own terms, in her own time, as exactly who she is.

There's a really good lesson in there.

What would change if you stopped treating yourself like a rthe person you think the world thinks you should be?

Not the people-approved version of you. The actual you. The one with the strong opinions and the weird humor and the dreams that feel a little too big to say out loud. The one who maybe takes up more space than feels "safe" sometimes.

What if that version didn't need to be fixed?

What if you just… stood on the arm of the chair and looked out at the world like it was yours?

Savannah does it every single day. She's never read a self-help book. She has no idea what a limiting belief is. She just woke up one day as herself and decided that was enough.

More than enough, actually.

Everything, in fact.

You were not put here to be a quieter version of yourself.

You were put here to be the whole, fluffy, luminous, occasionally-standing-on-the-furniture thing.

Own it.

Savannah would want that for you.

Love to all!

💛 🐾