Sharing My Story

Feels awkward.  Embarrassing.  Embellished.  Self-centered.  Stupid.  Ego-centric. 

But when someone reaches out to me in thanks; when someone reaches out to me in prayer; when someone asks for help with their food or their body or their mind: I remember.

I remember that it is only awkward because it isn’t normal yet to share our stories so publicly and transparently.  I remember that it only feels embarrassing because it is mine and I am afraid I won’t be received.  I remember that it only feels embellished because social media usually streams the pretty and the comfortable.  I remember that it only feels self-centered because I am talking about myself and because my experience is the only one that I know.  I remember that it only feels stupid because it wasn’t an embraced practice in my household.  I remember that it only feels ego-centric because I still tend to be a lot of what I think about.

I wrote a book.  I wrote a book about me.  I wrote a book about my story and how I met God through my body.  I wrote a book because somebody interviewed me for their book and told them I should.  I wrote a book because words come very naturally to me, and so does putting them together.  I wrote a book because as an avid reader, I know the power of word.  I wrote a book because I feel it is my life purpose to help, and if that is my avenue, I am going to pursue it – awkward, embarrassing, embellished, self-centered, stupid, ego-centric or not.

I share on social media because it was encouraged that before my book goes to print, I should want people to know who I am.  I share so publicly and openly because that is who I am, and if you walk my life with me you will know that I am me wherever I go.  I have worked hard to be that person, and I work even harder to only keep those who do the same around me.  I share online because that is how we reach people we wouldn’t otherwise meet.  And recently, I have started sharing in other circles when the opportunity presents itself despite the unnerving feeling of being so raw and transparent.  I also know that if my name is going to be attached to print someday soon, I better start embracing that feeling and embracing the courage it takes to do what it feels terrifying. 

Really, I share because of you.  I share because somebody shared for me.  And if somebody didn’t share for me, about me, once a long time ago, I wouldn’t be here today.  If somebody didn’t take the leap that maybe somebody else felt like they did every once in awhile (or maybe all of the time), then none of us would ever feel connected in this vast Universe that today has more connectors than ever before, yet more segregations too.

I share because it helps me, and selfishly I want to feel better.  When you thank me, I am reminded that I am not alone.  When you congratulate me and celebrate our similarities, you help me keep going.  You help me remember my purpose and shut down the voice that says I can’t.

So, thank you.  Keep sharing how it helps and how it works, and maybe one day you’ll know you can share yourself, too.