for real this time
On Tuesday, the candle burning on my altar was lit with the intention of inviting myself to speak my truth. Writing, especially as here on my blog, has given me an outlet to write my truth. Over the last year, this blog has opened me up to share a side of myself that only my closest friends really knew before now. And I do feel that with each post I share pieces of my truth with people who stop by here, the friends and family who read it, and I share it with me. It has been quite the gift in my life.
I have discussed that I believe we do censor ourselves on our blogs, but the reality is that we do this in our lives. Most of us do not intentionally want to hurt another person with our words, spoken or written. Yet, we do hurt one another. Intention is sometimes not enough because we occasionally speak long before we have had time to think things through, and we also cannot control how the other person reacts to what we communicate. When people react to something I say in a way that indicates they feel hurt by my words or actions, the first thought I often have is, “but don’t you know me?” To me, this means: I would never mean to hurt you. I am still the same person I was right before those truly horrible words left my mouth and I really wish I could pull them back inside me. How can I fix this? But you just hurt me, that’s the only reason I just said that. I am just thinking this through aloud. I know I am being triggered here but I can’t find a way out of this situation. I feel cornered. I don’t know what to do so I am trying to fill up the space with words. And so many other similar thoughts.
In November, I found myself with an illness that centered around my throat on the heels of an experience where I had been unable to explain how I was feeling about something on the heels of a life where I am afraid to hurt anyone by telling them how I really feel. In the midst of the process of the doctors figuring out what was wrong, I had a procedure that was supposed to be a simple needle biopsy that might take five minutes that became a much longer and intense experience. Though they were wonderful throughout the procedure, because the doctor, nurse, and technician thought it would only take a few minutes, they didn’t give me a lot of instructions. My throat was numbed but my mind and adrenaline were awake and I was trying to breathe them into a space of calm. When I suddenly had a question and tried to ask it, the three of them said, “do not speak” at the same time. I hadn’t really thought about the fact that there was a very long needle in my throat, so I shouldn’t speak. I couldn’t see what was being done as my head was tipped back and it is difficult to see one’s neck without a mirror anyway. I was running so many scenarios through my head, including one that centered around the fact that because of the trouble they were having I must have cancer. In a sense, it was all of my worst fears in one moment: I had no control of anything. I could not move. I could not speak. I could not ask questions. My body was not doing what it was supposed to do. Even though Jon was there rubbing my leg, I felt alone and terrified. Even though there was a certain layer of good news that came out of this procedure and then very good news a week later, I can still feel that sensation of laying there feeling as I did that day…as though at any moment I might have to step out of my own body.
The day after this procedure, I began to be honest with myself about the lesson that was sitting across from me in every moment of this illness. The lesson that is always sitting in front of me. The one I have tried to understand and be honest about but never really want to look at. The lesson that scares me. Being literally unable to speak or move was the physical reality that made me pay attention to this lesson.
It is time to start letting it out. All the words, fears, anger, sadness, shame, hurt, agony that lives inside me. It is time to start letting it out. For real this time.
I have never done this because I am always afraid of what will happen. All the what ifs that come up when I actually think about telling someone how I feel. Because here is the thing, I don’t think the other person always has to know how you feel. Really, what do you expect them to do about it? You are in charge of your world and how you react to things. If you call a parent up and suddenly let him or her know all the ways you have been hurt about over the years, do you think that will suddenly solve everything? That you will just be over that pain because you said those words to that person and invited him or her to feel like shit? I don’t think so.
No, I am talking about something else. I am talking about being honest with myself about how I am feeling. Figuring out what is underneath so that when I do need to tell someone something, I can come from a place that isn’t full of all the anger, hurt, sadness, defensiveness, and pain that bubbled up to begin with.
When I met with my teacher in November, we talked about how I do share so many pieces of my truth here and in some other writing I do, but that my body is letting me know that I need to speak it. Out loud. My personal practice centers around this idea of spending time talking aloud about how I am feeling. In college, I went to therapy as my parents were divorcing. The therapist would often say, “And how did that make you feel?” And I would start talking. He would stop me and say, “But how did it make you feel?” I can see him pointing to his heart here, referencing how I was talking from my head. Even though I felt safe with him, I was totally afraid to be honest about how I was feeling. The anger that was bubbling in me, threatening to boil over as tears that might never stop. Through my conversation with my teacher, I was honest that I am afraid to tell my closest friend, who knows a whole lot of shit about my truth, and my husband how I feel about certain things, about certain people, about certain moments in my life.
As I talked with my teacher, it became clear that several things happen because of my fear of sharing how I feel. Because I do believe that we are constantly triggered by those around us and that we have to look at how we react to things, I spend a lot of time in my own head thinking about why I am reacting a certain way, what is coming up for me, and looking for the lessons. I am almost trapped in my own head unable to see the feelings for what they are. I spend so much time blaming myself for how things are going in my life that I am unable to see all the things I simply have no control over. But because all this work that I am doing in my head is such hard work, I sometimes resent that others around me don’t see all the work. They don’t see how hard I am trying to understand and be present to the moment. But then here comes the other part: they don’t see how hard I am trying to help them. And with that, poof, the very thing that I most do not want to invite in my life shows up, just like that: I become a martyr.
In trying to own my reaction to life around me, I somehow have decided that I cannot share how I am feeling about something. I am trying to protect the other person, but in doing this, I start to feel bad because suddenly I realize that very few people are protecting me. And then = suddenly I am alone in a room with only one door and its marked resentment.
In not speaking my truth, the truth began to fester in me, literally. Even though I am doing so much work and working so hard. Even though I have learned so many lessons, especially in the last few years. Even though my heart feels heavy a lot of the time. Even though the darkness sometimes threatens to knock at my door. Even though all of this is true, I have to be honest with myself.
The somewhat obvious question sits in front of me, “What would happen if you did start speaking your truth?” The answer comes in the form of another question, “What will happen if you don’t?” And my body already knows the answer. This is why I am grateful for the opportunity to get the lesson without cancer. I am grateful that I am beginning to push through the fear to be honest with myself. For real this time.
(And no, Carla doesn’t pay me to her plug her candles, but they have became such an important part of my own healing in the past few weeks that I just can’t talk about them enough. Again this evening, speak my truth is nestled on my altar burning brightly.)
liz lamoreux
Reader Comments (25)
Thank you. I am wrestling with the same demon today. Later I will be spending the evening with a friend of Florian with whom I always feel as if my words are coming out wrong. The more I try speak my truth the more he questions me, my words start tangling up in each other and I leave in tears with a headache.
I will take your candle with me...
that's where we have to start isn't it - being honest with ourselves. Bravo my love, you are squarely on the path now xo
sweetie,
only good things can come from this.
you are so strong
and so
insightful...
xo
This post really resonated with me. I have found myself in a similar position of late. I have been working hard over the last few years to find what my own truth is. I'm only just realizing though that finding it isn't enough - I have to learn to speak it as well. And that is the hardest part!
You are inspiring! Thank you for your post! (and thanks for the recommendation to Zena Moon! I bought a couple candles before the holidays, and I will be buying more!!)
With me it has been one step forward and two steps back, but knowing that I am making progress is encouraging. Speaking the truth out loud has been difficult but rewarding--some people don't want you to change, they want you to continue to hold all of it in because that is what they do. But there are also people who will see the effort you are making and (aside from whatever the truth is) accept you and love you more.
You are not alone on this path...
Your post really resonated with me, dearest Liz- I have such similar feelings. My husband is so open and honest with his feelings that I feel overwhelmed by them. He asks me how I feel about something and I start to choke or shrug my shoulders. I cop out and say it's just not me to openly share so much, but that's what it is- a big cop-out.
Sometimes I feel like if I open my mouth the only thing that will come out are screams- never-eneding screams. It takes a lot of courage to make the decision you have... it is so much healthier for you in the long run. I know all of us are rooting for you, encouraging you, loving you.
Thanks for sharing, dear one.
What wonderful insight you are gaining through intention. Acceptance of how we feel in any given moment is a freedom that only we can give ourselves. It's nice to see you loving yourself, Liz Elayne. You are so worth every moment of kindness, gentleness that you extend. Thank you for sharing this deeply honest post. And thank you to Regina, for sending me this way.
I feel like every stumbling uncertain moment you share here becomes a lesson for me to learn from. This is why I always come back to check in. My writing is going deeper all the time right now into the truth--scary, heady stuff. The wake-up call for me about speaking my truth came at the dawn of 2006--and I have been a full year now in dealing with learning to express my realities. In some ways I feel almost like I'm "cheating" b/c in my blogging, I really don't share all of the details of myself and my situations. But, there is an emotional truth that I think we all can express, which is what I'm working on. I wish you gentle strength on your journey...
--D.--
Liz Elaine. I am so here with you.
Hanging on your every word, thankful that you share this journey with us.
I look to you as a source of inspiration because in many ways, I think we are on a similar spiritual path, but that maybe you are further along, more devoted to it, and when I come here it reminds me to pay attention to my own spiritual path.
I loved the part you wrote about how sometimes someone doesn't need to know how you feel.
I work hard to speak my truth too- but this is a lesson I am trying to learn most. Not speaking until I can speak it right.
Speaking it in a way that like you said, "isn’t full of all the anger, hurt, sadness, defensiveness, and pain that bubbled up to begin with."
I think I may have already said this to you, but Happy New Year.
I always love the reality check you provide here my dear. Being honest with yourself is the only truth you can really count on. And even at the end, if someone's feelings are hurt, chances are if you've spoken the truth, eventually they'll come around.
Now I have a new candle resource. (= xo
Oh, Liz, I wish I lived near you so we could sit down for tea or coffee or alcohol (he he he) and talk about this subject. I've been talking about this over and over again with my therapist and struggling with it within myself, too. Speaking truth is hard. But so worth it. In my limited experience (which shall hopefully expand sooner) truth telling is difficult, can be ugly but is ALWAYS worth it. I'm right there with you, sista. Start talking, and so will I. And even better? I'll listen.
Love to you, dear one.
Dearest Liz--your writing reaches out from the screen to grab my heart and my head. As you can see from earlier comments, so many of us share this struggle. Your thoughtful discussion of it here does more good than you can know.
Thank you. Blessings. Peace.
You amazing soul. I get this, oh, how I get this!! I know the feeling so well. This was an truely great, and honest post Liz...I feel honored to read it.
My Aunt JoAnne did battle with cancer in her throat. It is a miracle that she beat it back. And it is funny, because I thought right away how it was no accident that THIS is where cancer came up for her. Because she has spent her whole life in painful silence about her truth, and swallowing her feelings and words. I pointed this out to her (because she love sme, so I can say that stuff), and I gave her a book I found about spiritually fighting illness. After all her work, she started paying more attention to her habbit of stuffing, and silence. Just like you said.
I send you Light and love as you take on this experience of speaking. It is brave and bautiful.
oxox :)
Girl, I AM SO WITH YOU! Like the many that have commented, your words touched me deeply. Thank you for writing this, for articulating this so beautifully. To a year of speaking our truths!!
“I spend a lot of time in my own head thinking about why I am reacting a certain way, what is coming up for me, and looking for the lessons. I am almost trapped in my own head unable to see the feelings for what they are. I spend so much time blaming myself for how things are going in my life that I am unable to see all the things I simply have no control over. But because all this work that I am doing in my head is such hard work, I sometimes resent that others around me don’t see all the work. They don’t see how hard I am trying to understand and be present to the moment. But then here comes the other part: they don’t see how hard I am trying to help them. And with that, poof, the very thing that I most do not want to invite in my life shows up, just like that: I become a martyr.”
Those words have just summed up my reaction to my in-laws. I read this post at least three times while nodding my head because I understand. Your struggles are my struggles. I have yet to figure out a way to speak the truth in a way that does not come from anger, hurt, sadness, defensiveness, and pain although I deeply wish to be understood. So much goes on in my head – my thoughts are such a big part of me. I realized recently that my blog has become a place where I am more public with my life than anywhere else – and yet even still there are things I don’t say for fear of hurt feelings. It’s hard and yet I am glad you have opened up the discussion because now we both know that we are not alone.
Hi Liz,
Oh, I can relate to this even from the surgery standpoint. There's a delicate balance between wanting to please others and being true to oneself. (For me, finding that balance is a fluid and constant learning curve.)
I'm rather new here, so I'm relieved to read that you don't have cancer! Emotional health is just as important. (Those candles are beautiful.)I wish you the best in your journey of self-awareness or "realness" in choosing when and what to say. To bottle it up, is toxic. As you so eloquently state, it is easier said than done, to "be honest with yourself."
Take care
I think this is my first comment I leave on your site. I've come across your blog a while ago though.
The first thing I thought when I finished reading your entry was: that's exactly it. You described so beautifully and precisely what I can't put into words (yet). Being honest with myself and my feelings is what I've struggled with all these years..
You said "It is time to start letting it out. All the words, fears, anger, sadness, shame, hurt, agony that lives inside me. It is time to start letting it out. For real this time."
Posts like yours truly inspire me to keep trying, to become more courageous to let it out.. thank you for that.
i think you had an aha moment when you wrote "what would happen if you did start speaking your truth? what will happen if you don't?" for someone who has worked long and hard (like you) on this very topic, i have learned that speaking your truth and telling the truth, as ugly as it may seem to feel at the time, really does truely set you free - and in ways you've never imagined. you are not really communicating with someone or even really having an honest relationship with anyone if you are not speaking your truth to them, if you are not giving that relationship a chance to overcome something like an obstacle. instead, you are stopping the potential of that relationship dead in its track. that's a life of a lot of lost potential. so here's to you speaking your truth. for real this time.
Everything in this post resonates with me and I wholly support you in this endeavor of truth teling to self and others. I shall join you in this struggle and process in my own life!
What a brave, strong, truthful post.
You are doing it here, speaking your truth and it is a beautiful thing.
x
The list for the Create a Connection Mug Swap will be posted tomorrow (Monday)--don't forget to check the list! :)
I'm glad you're participating!
Jessie
ps.
sorry, this is just a "form email." i need to come back and catch up with you. i've missed you! i'm sending you love.
this is a very powerful post liz. i sat here reading through your words, knodding my head because i know i do the same thing. i protect people from what i feel and therefore never speak up. i'm here with you. we can hold hands and do this amazingly hard but healing work together.
as always, you inpsire me...
An amazing post - I felt as though you were writing exactly what I feel most of the time. I protect people and don't share how I feel, but I get my feelings hurt all the time because others aren't afraid to speak up and say just what they think. I just wrote a post about fear and how I let it keep me from doing things and this is so much the same thing. We do need to start off knowing and being honest about how we feel with ourselves - that's the first step. I hope you are healing from your procedure and with the wonderful words that you've written, I know you can start healing in your heart too. Thank you for writing this!
All I can do is bow and say
Namaste
XOXOXO
wow Liz. this post really resonates with me right now as the word I have chosen as mine for 2007 is truth. i will bookmark this to refer back to and give me courage in the year ahead.
i also say namaste to you and want to acknowledge your courage.