I’d been waiting to walk those halls for 5 years. I was in
my best dress and wouldn’t have batted an eye if you’d asked me to audition on the
spot for the big screen. Once inside, I quickly found a familiar face and
darted away from my mother, who was busy checking me in.
Once I reached her, the words just about exploded out of my
tiny frame. “Hi, my name is Kirsty. I’m Loren’s little sister.” The kind-eyed
woman, who was mid-conversation with another teacher, looked down at me with a
warm smile and a laugh. She was obviously caught off guard, but not upset. Not
only had I cut into an adult conversation, but I had taken it upon myself to
make a formal introduction at 5 years old. Once I had her attention, I did what
came most natural to me, I continued to speak until I ran out of breath.
By the time my mom had found my little brunette bob among
the 40 other kindergartners, I had already covered the fact that I had one
functioning kidney and was just wrapping up the story of her divorce. The idea
of privacy never made much sense to me. When I told stories about my life,
others smiled or laughed and that was all I ever wanted in return. More
times than not, they responded with stories of their own. Another token for my
transparency. This was a trick I learned very young… If I show you my wounds,
you’ll show me yours.
As one of my favorite artists wrote, “These bruises make for
better conversation”.
I’ve always cut past the pleasantries and have rarely been
disappointed. We have all been hurt and most people carry trauma everywhere
they go. Desperately wanting to hand over the burden and lighten the load or
find someone who can connect with their pain. Many will hide this to make
“others feel comfortable”. However, I challenge you to ask yourself, “Is the
mask protecting you or them?” It can feel easier pushing down our emotions
and never allowing others to see past our perfect façade, but who wins in the
end? You’re both left accepting that your struggles are meant to be carried
alone.
Imagine walking the halls of your high school or streets of
your neighborhood with signs above our heads, listing our every insecurity and pain. For the first time, you might see the woman three doors
down because you can relate to what she is feeling… The burden of unrealistic
expectations as a mother, wife and daughter. You’ve cried yourself to sleep
time and time again due to those same pangs of guilt, though all you’ve seen
are her smiles and all you’ve felt toward her is jealousy for how easy her life
seems.
Those closest to me often say that I create deep
relationships at lightning speed and have a way of making others feel
comfortable while sharing personal stories. This is not by accident, nor is it
any secret. Showing up every day and facing others with our walls down can be
difficult, but it can also be beautiful. I am constantly amazed by individuals
in my life, by their strength and what they’ve overcome. I am also forgiving, because I’ve taken the time to see their raw and unfiltered self. Always remembering that we are our toughest critics. I
can be a better friend, colleague and family member when I promise others a
space for open, judgment-free dialogue.
Today, many topics are controversial, and many feelings are overwhelming. This is the time to be open with one another. When you show your heart, imperfect and unscripted, others feel safe doing the same. Think of that ripple effect through our communities and nation. The potential for a tidal wave of understanding and support.
Today, many topics are controversial, and many feelings are overwhelming. This is the time to be open with one another. When you show your heart, imperfect and unscripted, others feel safe doing the same. Think of that ripple effect through our communities and nation. The potential for a tidal wave of understanding and support.
