Living Out Loud

I've come up with a term to describe what has been one of the hardest endeavors of my life and that is "Living out loud" because where I've lived most of my life was dying in silence so I took those three words "Dying in silence" and spun them to their opposite, which made "Living out loud". Talking about things I don't want to talk about is costly to me, in so many ways- it's sometimes even costly to those who love me, and I hate that. I heard a quote recently and it was, "If those close to me have to pay a price for who I am, then I am going to love them so well that the reward of being close to me will far outweigh the cost."

This time of life has often felt like just a series of hard conversations, a collection of words etched with pain, and it has been anything but easy. I thought living out loud would make my life easier- it hasn't yet- but my God, I think I might be more alive than I've ever been. At the end of the day, I'd rather be alive and aching than dead and numb. One thing that I am slowly realizing though, is that every time I get through another hard conversation it builds my confidence for the next one. I also see that it has made me appreciate laughter more than I ever have, it has made me treasure those conversations where you laugh until you're lying on the floor, gasping for air, sides hurting, tears streaming, peeing yourself a little (if your pelvic floor is as damaged as mine is after three children) because you and your friends are on a role that just won't quit. Even if it isn't laughter to that intensity, I even appreciate just lightness. I appreciate relaxed conversations. I appreciate all of these more than I ever have, I didn't know to appreciate them before- but now that I'm in a season of heavy talks, I know to be grateful for the heavy and the light.

Living out loud is to live vulnerably, it is to risk being hurt, it is hard, it is scary- it is worth it. Even though so many painful conversations have come out of the choice to talk, there has also been more comfort and sweetness as a result of those; because now, here, in the Out Loud, I am both known and loved by others. I cannot overstate how terrifying talking about hard things has been for me. I also cannot overstate how much it has healed me. So, I'm encouraging you- those things that want to hide in the dark? The things that you say "If anyone knew this they wouldn't love me the same"? Talk about it. The things you feel ashamed of? Talk about it. Brene Brown said, "Shame cannot live with words wrapped around it." So be brave friend, wrap words around that shame, those thoughts, those memories, that experience, and take away it's power. I'm including two pieces in this post that I wrote, one about what it's like to be vulnerable- it was a hard to write. It was uncomfortable to write honestly. But after I was done with it, it felt true, and it felt right. The second piece is about the reward of vulnerability.

I'm extending my hand to you, come one, you can do this- as someone wise said, all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage to change your whole world.

Vulnerability is like this:

Picture this-

You’re standing in front of someone

So panicked you’re about to run,

But you decide

That it’s long past time,

To let the things that haunt you

See some light.

So someone watches,

While you strip each piece of clothing off

One

By

One.  

Flinching as you shrug out of another sleeve,

Whimpering as you kick off your jeans-

Every undergarment, bottom to top

Has to come off.

You try to cover up

But what’s done is done,

They can’t unsee

Your naked body.

And oh God, you hope they’ll understand,

And you pray that they’ll be a safe place to land.

The hardest part

Is that they

Get to stay

Dressed.

But you count your lucky stars,

Everytime you realize all that they’re looking at

Is your heart.

Vulnerability's reward:

I’ve realized

That my brain

Was wired

To silence pain.

I’ve thought

About how my mind

Was taught

To hold shame tight.

But I’ve seen

That when I talk

I’m allowing mending

To another broken spot.

The road to vulnerability, the world where you are Living Out Loud, can sometimes feel like this foggy road- you can't see what's past that fog- but you know that you can take another step. I'll step with you.