Turns Out This Is My Circus and These Are My Monkeys
I can’t always blame the full moon or outside influences—though let’s be real, it’s tempting, and I’ll admit it’s an easy go-to. You know the phrase, “Not my circus, not my monkeys”? It’s the mental equivalent of tossing your hands up and stepping away from energy, responsibility, or emotion that isn’t actually yours to carry. Absorbing what doesn’t belong to you? Yep… it happens. But the real wisdom lies in knowing the difference between taking ownership of your own circus and recognizing how easily we can take on someone else’s emotions, responsibilities, or chaos and mistake it for our own. Self-responsibility doesn’t mean carrying everyone else’s monkeys too—or, as my guides would say, lugging around “rocks in your backpack” that don’t belong to you. It’s a beautiful mantra for boundaries.
But what happens when it is your circus? Usually, my first response is: Damn it, this is my stuff. (Laughing while taking a deep breath in.) When the flying bananas, flaming hoops, high-stakes trapeze acts of your life—and questionable clown energy (not in a good way)—are all yours to wrangle? Yeah. Welcome to my week. Month. Year.
In numerology, this is a personal 5 year for me, within a collective 9 year of 2025—aka a whole lot of change, transformation, and tying up loose ends. See what I mean? More monkeys.
Sooo… somewhere between trying to control everything and pretending nothing needed my attention, I had a moment—the kind that stops you mid-scroll, mid-sip of coffee, mid-existential spiral. And I realized: Turns out this is my circus. And yeahhhh… these are my monkeys.
It was one of those “why does everything feel like it’s collapsing around me?” kind of moments—only to realize the only thing collapsing was the tower of thoughts in my head.
And here’s where I forget (pun fully intended) that there’s something weirdly empowering about that realization. Because I’m the ringleader. Like they say: you’re the director, the producer, and the main actor in your own life. A reminder that I have say. I have power. And apparently, I also have a full troop of emotionally chaotic, banana-hurling parts of myself just trying to get my attention. 😂
Sometimes, the monkeys are old stories running wild. Sometimes, they’re unhealed triggers dressed up like clowns. Sometimes, they’re just the daily demands of being human—work demands, bills, emails I forgot to reply to…
But the truth is: when I own the circus, I can also change the show. Not always simple, but necessary if I want to come back to center—and back to being present. It’s always easier to say when giving advice to someone else, but here’s the gentle reminder: Uhm… yeahhhh—I can quiet the noise. I can re-script the act. I can let the monkeys rest. Because maybe they’re just tired too. (Truth there.)
Taking ownership isn’t the same as taking blame. It’s about noticing what’s really yours to tend to—and doing it with compassion, not control. It’s about recognizing the parts of your life that keep calling you back, not to punish you, but to be witnessed, held, and lovingly redirected.
Sounds way better than blame, doesn’t it? So if you’re standing in the middle of chaos today wondering why everything feels like it’s spinning… Just know: Maybe it’s because you’re in your own center ring. And maybe it’s time to reimagine the kind of show you want to run. (More puns—I can’t help myself.)
Life will always have a bit of circus energy.
But when we stop disowning the mess and start relating to it with curiosity and care, we stop feeling like helpless spectators—and start becoming conscious creators, stepping into our power and actually owning it.
Turns out, these are my monkeys. Damn it. They probably just needed a snack and a nap. (Honestly, same.)
Copyright 2025 Angelique Declercq. All rights reserved.
Photo Credit: Stock Image / UnSplash