is it common for bloggers to feel somewhat hesitant in sharing their blog with friends and family? and by ‘somewhat hesitant’, i mean fearful and resistant?
i started this blog a couple of weeks ago and have barely told anyone. (i know – not the best way to ‘increase my traffic’, but whatever.) it’s interesting that i don’t particularly want those closest to me to know about my little venture, at least not for now. what am i hiding? what am i so afraid of?
granted, this is a pretty personal blog. but still. what’s that about?
i have long pondered the importance of speaking my truth. i was first introduced to this wild concept about thirteen years ago, when a woman spontaneously began channelling messages to me (that’s a blog for another time). she stressed that i must ‘speak my truth’. at the time the concept was vague, abstract. speak my truth. what did that even mean? the fundamental question being – what the hell is my truth?
i didn’t understand that i had an autonomous truth. my own truth was melded with those of my family, my ancestors, my culture…pretty much anything and anyone i had a relationship or interaction with in my life. being a sensitive and open child, i suspect i took on more truths than i knew what to do with. your truth was my truth.
it never occurred to me that i could have a truth that was mine and mine only. my own built-in authoritative compass. something no one else had access to.
since then i have received countless messages, from various sources, regarding the importance of speaking my truth. in the beginning, however, i confused it with lashing out, delivering ‘what i really thought’ with harsh words, expressing my anger in harmful ways. these reactions felt totally out of my control, and i have compassion for myself for being in that very stuck place of wanting to behave differently, but feeling genuinely unable. being at the total mercy of my triggers. it was hard for me to control my impulses. i still struggle with this.
the voices and opinions of others feel like energetic strands that have become attached to me, embedded in me. but i know i have absorbed them by choice, even when it didn’t feel like choice. i feel it in my solar plexus…my power center. i have spent the past few years consciously untying these cacophonous threads, discerning which are mine which are others’. and disposing of those that don’t belong to me.
what does it mean to even know one’s truth, let alone speak it? is it an intellectual stance, an unmistakable gut knowing, something intangible that we sense but cannot name? whatever it is, i know that there was (is) a part of me willfully choosing behaviours to block it out: spending too much time on facebook, eating foods that aren’t good for my body, staying in an uninspiring job, to name a few.
this is one of the paradoxes of being human: we are most terrified of that which will ultimately set us free. we are afraid of being wrong. we are afraid of rejection. we are afraid of ridicule. we are afraid of hurting those around us. we are afraid of discomfort. we are afraid of breaking away from the tribe. we are afraid of being alone. that’s a lot to risk for something ineffable, something ultimately ‘unknowable’. speaking my truth feels like venturing into the unknown. maybe even hovering over an abyss.
then again, perhaps i have taken the whole thing far too literally. speaking my truth is not necessarily a proclamation i make to the world: “listen up! this is who i am! this is what i stand for!” it can be seen as more living my truth, and that means:
being authentic in my speech. not saying things i don’t mean. this may translate into speaking less in general. it’s challenging because we’re so conditioned to respond in certain ways. we’re supposed to care about things we really don’t. example: i’m finding it very taxing to engage in meaningless chitchat at work. everywhere really, but especially at work. the other day i pretended to be in a jovial mood in front of a supervisor, and it just about killed me. my body simply can’t pretend anymore; it’s getting harder to be fake. in the end it completely backfires anyway; all that suppression will inevitably explode, one way or another. i don’t want to learn the hard way.
not apologizing for or rationalizing what i want and don’t want to do. this happens so subtly, so sneakily – the need to explain/justify our choices and actions to others. we’re basically saying: “i’m not sure about my decision here, so let me try to convince you. and me.” enough with the self-doubt. we don’t need external permission. sometimes the hardest thing is giving it to ourselves.
stop defining myself in terms that are limiting and probably completely untrue. examples: “i’m not an artist.” “i’m not creative.” “i’m not athletic.” “i’m shy.” “i’m uncoordinated.” at some point, these seeds get planted in our minds, and we water them with self-doubt. what if those things were never true in the first place? i don’t want to go another day telling myself lies.
saying no when i want to say no, with kindness. not over-committing. not being a flake. much better to say ‘no’ off the bat, than to say yes, resent it, resent them, then bail on whatever i committed to.
stop hiding from others. stop thinking they’re smarter than me. greener than me. more creative than me. stop comparing. stop competing. stop trying to fix myself. no more self-help books!
these are just a few things. most of all, it’s about understanding that the people who love me truly want me to be happy, as i do them. and they’d probably be thrilled to see me thriving and vibrating with the joy that comes from being completely my real self. and as new agey as it sounds, once i speak my truth, they’re free to speak theirs. my truth doesn’t have to take away from their truth. it can be win-win.
speaking our truth requires complete self-acceptance. and not ‘acceptance’ in a ‘tolerance’ sense. this is radical acceptance; uncovering and embracing aspects of ourselves that we’ve been ashamed of, tried to hide. perhaps even realizing that what we’ve tried to hide might be the most valuable thing we have to offer.
all this processing can get a little exhausting. did i mention that my truth also includes the permission to stop processing? on that note, i think i’ll take this weekend off and party down with my best gal-pal in seattle. my inner voice is asking for some red wine, 80s tunes, and laughter, and i’m going to listen to her.
and when i’m back, i may send this link to all my friends and family.