Being a Woman in Public

Hey friends! As you know, I've been wandering lately and I'm a person who struggles to put herself out there, though I do it all the freaking time. As I've been exploring what's next for me, I've been informally interviewing people in the different fields that I love, talking to people with experiences I want to have and trying to count the cost of my various options. It has been awesome, overwhelming, exhausting, slow, scary and exciting.

The thing that keeps coming back to me is expanding my writing and public speaking. It gives me a real sense of purpose and I genuinely derive energy and excitement from it. I have be honest with y'all though. This is the path that is met with the most resistance for me socially and in community. It would be so much easier for me to just get a job. I want to put a disclaimer here that I have not been perfect through this process of writing and speaking publicly using my story and sharing my experiences. I have been unkind, uncharitable and way too damn specific. 

Unfortunately though, a big HOWEVER is coming. And the however is, there has been a sense of kismet in me for a long time that this might be an inevitable part of my path, my process, my story. That if I sidestep the words within me, I will be sidestepping my destiny. That sounds hella dramatic, but what I mean is, I am regularly being put in a position where I can choose to be socially accepted ("normal") or I can be myself. This has been a great source of loss and pain for me. I've written about that too. And with a lot of grace for my humanity and my community, I think I can be proud of how I've carried myself thus far. That is not everyone's opinion, but within myself I can validate a true effort to have healthy boundaries and fairness for my detractors.

I am reminded often that women who are public figures are given an unbelievable, disproportionate amount of shit. The recent gorgeous letter written by Beth Moore and subsequent evisceration of her character (I will not tag anything here to avoid increasing their clicks but it is there, trust me) was genuinely triggering to me. I want to believe that someone like her who has played the evangelical game long enough, with such incredible integrity, would have built enough credit in public opinion to be able to lift the veil a bit.

I'm realizing that no amount of credit will sustain a woman who speaks truth publicly.

Whether it be Brene, Rachel, Glennon, Elizabeth, Jen, Nadia...there is no fucking exception. 

So if my dream is to become a woman who lives out loud, publicly, honestly, and with courage, I AM GOING TO BE CLOBBERED. REPEATEDLY. And that forever changes a person. I see that going one of two ways. You can either let it break you or you can develop a thick enough skin and strong enough boundaries that you can continue to be who you need to be in the world. But the cost is fucking high and frankly, mightily unfair. So far, I've held my pain, honored it and defined what was mine and what belonged to my critics. I think that puts me on a path towards the latter result. But I have to tell you, that month where I was spiraling was one of the hardest months of my adult life. There were a lot of tears, so much soul searching and an incredible amount of self-care. That is what I did full-time for the month of October. That's a big deal. If I'm honest, I'm still rebuilding my self-esteem because I was judged by people who I thought really knew and loved me. If I up the ante in what I write and how I put it out there, that is only going to increase. It is the ultimate sifting, right?

I'm intimidated.

I'm not sure I want to lose the safety of anonymity. 

I don't know how much I can really handle being told horrible things about myself, whether they are lies or not.

I don't know if my well will dry because the well I write and speak from requires vulnerability. And only a crazy person would be able to continue in vulnerability when spoken of the way these women are spoken of. Their public perception can turn on a dime. There's no winning, not really. 

Okay that's not true. The winning is being true to yourself, being strong in the face of unbelievable cruelty and fulfilling your purpose. The cost is public acceptance (or false public acceptance until you put one toe over the line), anonymity and freedom from accountability. I admire these women. I don't agree with everything they say and write. Why would I? We're living different lives. But I admire their courage and often, their words give voice to what I'm experiencing, feeling, believing and give me a sense of camaraderie. The good they're doing clearly outweighs the cost it requires. It does. 

Time to put my big girl panties on? 

Not All Wandering is Fun

I haven't written in awhile. There are a few reasons, I think. Writing is a way for me to process my feelings, honor them and give them a mic. It's part of my self-care. I've been kind of down lately and I think sometimes when you need it most, self-care becomes a chore. It takes a certain amount of energy to even do the things that give you energy, you know? I think this is what life feels like for depressed people all the time. And I have to tell you, just in case you didn't know, it fucking sucks.

But eventually, I always find myself writing, thank God. I think putting myself out there in writing or in my business or even socially requires a base level of self-esteem and I don't often dip below that mark. I've been lucky that way. I'm very social and confident and I enjoy lots of personality types. However, lately, I've danced above and below it that base level of self-esteem. And it's funny to put yourself out there when you're not in a great place because I feel like our culture is all about the shiny and pretty and struggle just isn't those things. Yet, here I am.

I'm trying to figure out what my life should be about as my kids are no longer needing me as their foundation. Penny starts kindergarten in the fall and it's going to be awesome for everyone. We're ready and she's going to shine and I'm happy for her. On my side of things though, I've always told myself that when my youngest starts full-time school, it would be a season for me to focus more on myself, my personal development, my time to contribute to the world in a bigger way. I think being a full-time parent and part-time business operator has been a contribution to my children, my small family and to the greater community in so many ways. But now I'm ready to move out from behind that and venture out into the world a little more as an individual. It's funny because I've always prided myself on not over-identifying as a mother, which is such an easy trap. When you are everything to someone, you can get lost and start to think that's all you are. I really didn't want to do that to myself or my kids. And at the same time, I've been home with a little person for TEN YEARS. For only having two kiddos, that's a really long time (they're five years apart). And I'm starting to realize that the "what's next?" question is proving a little more frightening than I have expected it to be all these years.

So there's a possible whole-family transition on the horizon (especially if I decide to work full-time in a job) and the task of processing the end of a very long and sentimental phase of life in raising children. There's also the daunting reality that I have so many things I'm interested in doing. I made a list of all the environments I like, types of systems I could work within (schools, hospitals, universities, non-profits), jobs that would be cool and they all have things that intrigue me. Some of those things would require more schooling. All of them would require some intimidating re-working of my stone-cold resume. Also, I've had the immense privilege of having total control of my time for ten years (well, as much control as you can have with a little person attached to your leg). The compromises required to work with or for someone else is a piece of liberty I find challenging to potentially relinquish. But I find myself wanting a bit more structure and collaboration in my work life and being fully self-employed (I'll always do Shaklee so that will always be in play, thankfully) means that I am totally self-propelled and that's gotten a little isolating this year. 

And then there's my perfectionism...I don't want to make any compromises (being there to drop off and pick up my kids, being around in the summer, not working when my kids are off, etc) with my time. I want to know in advance it's going to be awesome, fulfilling and worth the sacrifice of my time and freedom. I want to make a real contribution to society so participating in certain systems that tend to cripple that makes me hesitant. I want to make good money, hopefully making the loss of some control worth it to me and to my family. I want to be challenged but able to do my work and I want my work to make a real difference. I want to prevent more pain to the people in the world. There's something gorgeous about treating current pain but I want to prevent new pain from occurring. When I was younger, I wanted to save the world for Jesus. Now I just want to save the world from ourselves. But there's a certain level of realism in me that wonders if that can ever really be. And if that can't ever really be, why go through all the scary shit to try? Hence, I've been in a bit of a dark cave lately.

It's too late for me to go to school in the fall. I can't make a ton of new money or I'll lose the awesome scholarship we were granted for Penny to do Montessori kindergarten next year (so stinking cool). But I don't want a lost year either. I want to keep writing. I want to figure out what's next. And I don't want to just do something or just take something to make this processing stop. I've got about 30 more years to work and I want to make them count. I want to be smart and strategic. But I also want to be realistic. And to be honest, I've always felt like I'm on the outside looking in at the world of people who just know how to navigate the world and all it's mysterious (to me) systems. I probably need some sort of career coach. Ugh. 

I Am Enough

I was in church this morning with a bunch of strangers. I did not bring my family and my friend who's my connection to the church wasn't there. Though I don't know her personally yet, the gal who spoke before the offering felt like a kindred spirit. She discussed a recent freak out moment she had when she went into her sewing room and saw all the beautiful fabric she had in there. I could hear the voice of unworthiness behind the tears she recounted to us, the feeling of needing to excuse or justify or apologize for such an expense. I know that voice well. It's the voice that tells me I can go longer without journaling, that I don't NEED to write. It sets guilt at my feet when I leave my family on Monday nights to go to my drawing class. It's what justified budgeting more spending money for my husband than for myself for years. I can do fine with less, so I give myself less. In everything. 
Somehow I see my needs or wants as something to hit the snooze button on if something "more important" or at least more immediate presents itself. I can wait, I tell myself. Is this just my caretaking thing or does this speak into my experience as a woman? There's no doubt in my mind that we teach women to caretake both in our culture and in the church. We tell women to be less. Less emotional. Less vain. Less sexy (insert long rant about shaming women who wear leggings here!) Less catty. Less jealous. Less frivolous. Less talkative. Less expressive. Less needy. We want women to be quiet. Meek. Skinny. Small. I imagine men have their own struggles and certainly not everything is defined by gender. But do men really struggle with asking permission to be a person? Someone with real, vibrant needs that takes up space and has things to offer? I don't imagine that they do.  
Perhaps my editing tendency comes from being a big person by nature. I'm loud, sensitive, emotional and extremely relational. I talk a lot, interrupting people I truly care about. Ironically, I interrupt because what they say resonates with me and I can't help but chime in. In spite of my close friends knowing this about me, I have a real fear of being "too much."  That maybe I should just shut up. The more I go through counseling, the more I see how much I have edited myself. I thought I needed to be a lesser version of myself to fit into all the boxes I set up in my life. That my marriage couldn't work if I allowed my wandering spirit to roam. That my conservative church wasn't interested in what I had to say because I'm a woman. That my family couldn't function if I slowed down. How would shit get done if I didn't wear myself out? If I accepted my dirty floor? If I carved out room for myself to be big and small and everything in between, would I lose what matters most to me in the end? 
I've found myself unpacking a lot of boxes. Theological ones, personal ones, relational ones. I am not nearly done. I'm grateful because some of that is starting to take shape. I'm attending a church that I don't dare speak of yet (it's too sacred and personal, but I'll get there soon). I'm filled with wonder time and time again when my dear husband steps back to make more room for me every time I let a little more out of the box. I keep thinking he won't want to see or hear something and you know what? He does. Every. Single. Time. He blows my mind.  
Turns out, my hang ups are mine. Yes as I change, my long-standing relationships require some adjustment. But I've just got to stop asking permission to live my life. I am a woman. And the female experience is big. I am big. My life is big. And I have to believe that that's intentional. That my gifts and my self, repressed bits and not, are enough, good, valid and needed. That somewhere in the world is someone who benefits from me being me. And even if there isn't, I benefit from being me. And that's enough for now.