Choosing to share or not is always a choice and never do any of us need to feel obligated to do so. It is something that when I do a quick check in on the inside I almost always receive a green, yellow or red light sense and that informs me of how to handle the inquiry.
I will always recall being asked how my son had transitioned and that they did not know the full story and if I chose to, would I please share. I dropped inside myself and felt that maybe just giving a brief and condensed version might be helpful to this person as they were going through a deeply personal loss themselves. I felt a visceral explosion of shards of jagged objects swirling within me, sweaty fingers on my keyboard, yet I hoped that maybe my sharing might create a bridge that we could meet upon.
I pressed send and my tender heart traveled with the email. I try so hard to practice not holding expectations around these kinds of full disclosures, yet this one was teeming with them. No reply, nothing, an email in return about her social engagements and new golf clubs. Such a soul crushing moment and one that left me feeling confused because she had asked and I had summoned my courage to go there once again.
After much thought I chose to express how being asked such a vulnerable and transparent kind of question landed for me. Not acknowledging and or receiving a response to it was simply not okay. Many excuses ensued and our relationship now resembles a yearly Christmas card in the mail.
A 180 degree turn with this is when we are asked by a person we are in relationship with, someone whom we are building safety and trust with and our choice is not to share. Is it that we fear if they knew about the “thing” whatever it might be they might judge or think less of us? I’m not sure, yet what I do know and understand about myself is that I desire to say all the things, no matter how messy, uncomfortable and horribly embarrassing. They are driving something within me even if I’m not consciously aware and most likely it’s feelings of separation and shame.
I have not regretted when I’m in a safe and trusting relationship to disclose the “thing.” Relieved to not be expending needed life force energy to keep it pushed down like a jack in the box, ready to pop out when least expected. Discerning, questioning and remembering that these, "Same and Me Too" kinds of life experiences are what weave our heart strings together in unity, rather than separate us.
Is there anything that might need some light and oxygen to heal? I sit with this quietly and inquire. Frequently something floats to the surface asking for my attention and awareness. This is an ongoing practice and one that allows me to trade off those heavy cement like boots for the coziness of my furry slippers.
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