facing fear

The voice that had narrated my life up until now was screaming of perfection.  If there was a patron goddess of "Emmy's Identity" she would be living in a well manicured mid century home, never making mistakes, always saying the right thing, invariably polished, receiving an A+ every day which clearly leads to an A+ in life.  Her mantra would be "There's nothing we can't do if we work hard, never sleep and shirk all other joy in our lives."  Otherwise known in the world we live in as "Having My Shit Together".

This Patron Goddess was wrong and also annoying.  But trying to shut her up is like trying to get my son's cat out from under the bed when she doesn't want to come (shoutout to Kitty-Kitty!).  You can stare at her and coax her, coo nice things and promise treats.  But in all reality you have two choices: wait until she is ready to come out on her own (which, let's be honest, cats are laughing at how ridiculous we are 93.7% of the time) or face your fear, get a buddy to lift up the bed frame and grab that cat no matter how much she swipes at you with her sharp claws of doom.  (I should be clear here in saying I've never done this myself but I've watched it happen and cats are SCARY.)  And I wasn't prepared to wait for her to waltz out from under the bed whenever she felt like it.

My buddy holding up the bed frame was my therapist Edna and I was gonna have to face the claws of fear and accept the fact that I did not, in fact, have my shit together.  And that it was time to be open about that fact. Edna was quick to pick up on the fact that I love homework and will complete all assignments throughly as to get an A+ in therapy.  (This is a paradox of course but I'm not perfect remember and we are all adults here I think we can handle it)  My homework from Edna that week was to share my innermost insecurities and thought patterns with my two best gal pals.  Oh boy.  

I can't quite adequately express the level of discomfort this brought me.  

Once when I was in college, my roommate and I stumbled upon a house full of cute boys while out on a walk near campus.  We decided on a whim that we would pretend that we were from England and promptly executed the accent and the town outside of London we were from and an entire back story of British allure.  The evening was lovely and these boys were hooked.  There wasn't much diversity at my conservative religious university so we were a pretty big deal.  At the end of the night we went on our merry way assuming that we would never see these boys again.  We were wrong.   A couple of months later I was enjoying my late night run to Hardees with some friends for a bacon cheeseburger and fries (Ah the metabolism of youth!).  I was mid-story about an annoying girl in the apartment next door when I turned to face one of those boys from my night of UK deception.  I was made. 

The discomfort was kind of like that. 

Don't get me wrong here.  I opened up to my girlfriends.  They knew almost all aspects of my life.  But what they didn't know were the rules that I was playing by inside my head.  What they weren't aware of was the internal dialogue that had been plaguing me for as long as, forever maybe? Sure,I could share with my girls the tough stuff.  But usually in reference to all the other people in my life.  And quite consistently AFTER the toughest part was behind me.  Less vulnerability that way.  So much more comfortable.  But just like the fake eyelashes I wore for my wedding that felt like tiny barbells for my eyelids that I ripped off at the end of the day, it wasn't working for me anymore.

Over the next few days I sat across from from friends and dropped my cloak of invisibility to reveal the naked truth.  Through the bees in my belly, the restless leg shifting and the tears I managed to truly be myself.  And you'll never guess what happened.  (Or maybe you will, you might be much further along in life than I was).  

My friends loved me even more.  

Those girls told me how long they have waited to be sitting "on the other side of the couch" with me after all these years.  Those girls knew how hard I was being on myself and just loved me anyhow.  

Have you ever seen the viral video of a young teenage boy who has been colorblind his whole life?  His grandfather is standing next to him as he puts on these special glasses that will reveal the world of color that he has been unable to witness up until now.  His visceral response to what he sees and experiences is full of shock and awe.  He cannot believe it at first until his family starts asking him what colors he is seeing.  He looks down at a bench to reveal small balloons in rainbow hues.  "Blue, purple, red, yellow, orange, green..." he says.  At this point he starts to quietly sob, shoulders quaking at the moment he is experiencing.  The beauty of what could have been this whole time and what he now sees is possible comes crashing into his heart.  He is overwhelmed with love and appreciation and possibility.

Yeah, that's kind of how it went for me too.