On Monday, I sat in this very same chair and typed out my deepest, darkest secret. It was something I had struggled both to hide and to share. I had tried many times before to write it out, a means that is often easier than speaking. But for this giant shame, even the written word failed me. Until Monday. Until my heart was so moved by the words of others, that I finally pushed back at the shame with a loud "I don't care what they think!" I didn't post it to impress people or win friends. My whole life, I had basically feared that anyone hearing this secret would think less of me. I clicked the button to post it in a surge of emotion. A moment later, I went back to edit a sentence. I considered taking it right back down. But someone had already read it. Another moment passed, and four people had read it. I sat back in the chair, the comfy black chair my mom gave me a few months ago, and I faced the fact that it was finally out there. I couldn't take it back, even though part of me desperately wanted to. And then the comments came. They came from friends and family, acquaintances and soul sisters. Every one was positive, encouraging, calling me brave and applauding my writing. Wow. It wasn't what I expected. It was, in fact, the exact opposite. I have never felt so loved and supported, and what a moment to experience that, when my soul was bared online for anyone to see. But the thing that rankled me, made me cringe, was the frequent use of the word "brave". I didn't feel strong and courageous when I banged out those words. I felt small, scared, shaky. I was attempting a break from the prison of shame, and I wasn't sure I would make it out. But maybe that's the thing...maybe real courage is going forward through the fear. I have felt so much lighter, breathed so much easier this week. I had no idea how much that shame weighed me down every day, even as I denied it and hid it and held it in. I wish I had spoken up sooner. I wish my words could have given justice to the crime. But they are out, they have finally freed me. That's enough.
http://lisajobaker.com/
I am so happy to see you reveling in your freedom. Interesting about the word brave. D and I were just talking about that word this week. He had to have blood drawn and he cried when he saw his blood speed through the tube. Afterwards, I told him how proud I was of him for being so brave. He said, "But I wasn't brave, Mommy. I cried." I told him that sometimes bravery looks a lot like crying because it's about facing your fears and not running from them. You, my friend, are the very picture of brave.
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