When we focus on the outward facing persona of ourselves and others, we begin to think that the not-so-Instagram-worthy parts of our lives are trials inherent to us alone.
Spoiler alert: I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even have most of the answers.
If anyone tells you that they do, run like the dickens. Seriously. If they do, it’s either the second coming of Jesus or they are out to make a buck or two. Neither of which is particularly appealing to me because I have so much living left to do and I work too hard for my money to throw it away on charlatans.
What I do know is that what I write about is also what I struggle with. Writing is a healing process, a way for me to sort things out and figure out the best path forward. A time to reflect and ponder on things from different points of view. All of which sounds very methodical and studious, but it’s really not. Laughter and joy take up just as much space as any other serious sounding emotion or academic thought process.
After creating content for over two years, what I have found is that the things I struggle with, laugh about, and try to deal with—everyone else does as well. Too often we become so focused on the outward facing persona of ourselves and others, that we begin to think that the not-so-Instagram-worthy parts of our lives are trials inherent to us alone.
There is no greater lie.
I will never forget the feeling when I made this website go live and published my first articles. It was TERRIFYING. I had spent countless hours creating a business and designing the site, so it was not as if this was some passing fancy. But when I hit the publish button, I felt sick to my stomach. All of a sudden, I was ambushed by thoughts of What have I done, and This was all a massive mistake, and Oh God, now everyone is going to be reading what I am thinking, and How could I have thought opening myself up to the world was a great idea?! I am an introvert, for heaven’s sake; this is not in my playbook.
Self-doubt is a plague that lures us into isolation with the façade of security and protection. Just as equally, it is a thief. A thief that robs us of the opportunity to strengthen connections and create new ones, hindering the building of bridges of both commonality and community.
Guys, we cannot interact with this world and our fellow inhabitants in the ways we are designed to unless and until we lower the mask we don as we go about our day-to-day lives. The mask serves no purpose but a barrier to becoming our full selves.
No one is going to bare their soul to someone who claims and acts like they have it all together. Why? Because it would place the person needing help in an inferior position. Hard times are hard enough without placing yourself in the vulnerable position of a subject asking for assistance from the sovereign.
Be the person who can share your imperfections and struggles and who embraces your own awkwardness. People seek connection and support from those who openly admit to their flaws, limitations, and struggles. It evens the playing field and makes the approach so much more natural.
Our less than perfect lives are the great equalizer, the sinew that unites what would otherwise be a distance too far. The accumulation of wisdom, resilience, and fortitude is only possible when we freely share that part of ourselves which we are reluctant to disclose.
Over the past year, the articles on this blog with the highest views, social media interactions, and conversation starters were When Your Best is Not Enough, Putting Toxic People in the Rearview, and The Blaze of Color (which deals with change). The year before that saw high engagement from Joy Comes in the Morning, If You’re Looking for a Sign to Stay Alive, This is it, and The Point of It All.
Utterly humbling and in some cases, absolutely heartbreaking.
We are all collectively and desperately seeking connections and answers.
You, my friend, are not alone.
I am too.
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