I want to talk about brokenness.
I want to talk about hurts.
I want to talk about shame and guilt.
I want to be vulnerable.
I want to be raw.
I want to be real.
But wanting to do this doesn't make it all that much easier to actually do.
I'd rather research shame and vulnerability than actually pursue it. I'd rather talk about doing it and how important it is than actually engage in it.
But when I look back at how I was six years ago, I know I've drastically improved. Each year I struggle, each year I improve, each year I share my life, each year I withhold myself.
I talked to a friend last night who brought shovels, a dump truck, and a bulldozer to our conversation. This friend endured through my non-responsiveness. They endured through my hurt, anger, and blame. They called me out in one of the kindest and gentlest ways and reminded me that they desperately loved me. They told me they weren't giving up on me. They gently addressed the ways in which I had been mean and offered alternatives.
I was exhausted after this conversation. And I was exhausted all day today. Probably partly to do with the weather, and I had a test, and I only had 4 hours of sleep, but I think it largely was due to experiencing something like a "vulnerability hangover" (coined by Dr. Brown). I allowed this friend to expose me and it sucked. Were they beyond kind and empathetic and loving? Absolutely. But it still sucked. I hate being called out, no matter how kind it is. I hate having someone know what I'm thinking. I also realized I hate not having control of a conversation (probably another conversation for another time).
What I love about this person was their willingness to trudge through things with me. To say, "I get it. And it's okay." To say, "I'm willing to sit and wait, even if it means a lot of awkward pauses." To say, "You're still my friend and that's not changing." To say, "You hurt me when you did this, let's talk about why you did that and what happened." To say, "I love you. All of you."
I told you, I have really awesome people in my life.
One of my favorite quotes:
"Come up with a game plan of how we're going to conquer this."
Also, check this link out:
http://www.ordinarycourage.com/my-blog/2008/12/16/seeking-shelter-in-the-storm.html
I want to talk about hurts.
I want to talk about shame and guilt.
I want to be vulnerable.
I want to be raw.
I want to be real.
But wanting to do this doesn't make it all that much easier to actually do.
I'd rather research shame and vulnerability than actually pursue it. I'd rather talk about doing it and how important it is than actually engage in it.
But when I look back at how I was six years ago, I know I've drastically improved. Each year I struggle, each year I improve, each year I share my life, each year I withhold myself.
I talked to a friend last night who brought shovels, a dump truck, and a bulldozer to our conversation. This friend endured through my non-responsiveness. They endured through my hurt, anger, and blame. They called me out in one of the kindest and gentlest ways and reminded me that they desperately loved me. They told me they weren't giving up on me. They gently addressed the ways in which I had been mean and offered alternatives.
I was exhausted after this conversation. And I was exhausted all day today. Probably partly to do with the weather, and I had a test, and I only had 4 hours of sleep, but I think it largely was due to experiencing something like a "vulnerability hangover" (coined by Dr. Brown). I allowed this friend to expose me and it sucked. Were they beyond kind and empathetic and loving? Absolutely. But it still sucked. I hate being called out, no matter how kind it is. I hate having someone know what I'm thinking. I also realized I hate not having control of a conversation (probably another conversation for another time).
What I love about this person was their willingness to trudge through things with me. To say, "I get it. And it's okay." To say, "I'm willing to sit and wait, even if it means a lot of awkward pauses." To say, "You're still my friend and that's not changing." To say, "You hurt me when you did this, let's talk about why you did that and what happened." To say, "I love you. All of you."
I told you, I have really awesome people in my life.
One of my favorite quotes:
"Come up with a game plan of how we're going to conquer this."
Also, check this link out:
http://www.ordinarycourage.com/my-blog/2008/12/16/seeking-shelter-in-the-storm.html
No comments:
Post a Comment