This new moon hit me hard y'all. In the way that only the new moon can- from the friggin' inside out.
And of course my period's due to come on Halloween... Ideal. So the letting go and purging of mess has been potent as all get out.
I share so much of myself as my job that I'm especially careful to pause and protect aspects of my life I don't exactly need to share. Literally backspacing entire pages sometimes like, "Ok hold up girl keep some for yourself..." (At least for now...you know as well as I do it'll just end up in the next book or podcast.) I'm naturally a bit of an over sharer. I over explain myself. And in the process I tend to explain a lot away. Mostly my aspirations, good attributes or compliments.
I've had conversations about this with my sister years ago. I miss her. I miss those conversations. But I have faith we'll have those talks again. She was referring to something that made me realize it wasn't only me. I wasn't alone.
A professor called her to his desk to look over a paper she'd handed in,
"And for no reason-" she said, "My face just started turning beet red while I stood there! Like I had something to be embarrassed about!"
"I do that TOO!!" I exclaimed. "I feel like I'm in trouble I just don't know for what yet! Like I'm always kinda ashamed...all the time."
Shame takes up space where love belonged. And like shrapnel that's finally been removed where the body once grew around it, we can observe these empty spaces within ourselves. Where love should've been. Where compassion and safety should have lived.
I've spent the last year removing shrapnel and admitting the scars are real. And as healing as that is, there's so much more to be done. There's a lot of holes to fill where love belongs.
After months...and months...and months of cranking out the audiobook version of Too Sensitive and feeling like a turtle running through peanut butter, I sat going through the tracks the engineers corrected last month. One by one. (Which I then had to send back...again...) I knew it wasn't good enough. They'd done a horrible job on editing and I knew I'd have to confront them. But for some reason because I knew it wouldn't be ready for Audible anyways, and I'll probably just end up recording it a third time...fourth...how ever many times it'd take...I just listened.
I stopped looking for pops and clicks and just listened to myself tell my own story- and I sobbed.
"Yeah...I know..." I thought, "I need to hear this as many times as it takes." I need to hear myself. Validate myself. Believe myself- as many times as it takes until I can speak without feeling like a monster.
The sound of our own voice is powerful beyond measure. Our bodies react. They listen intently and follow instruction.
I published Too Sensitive basically as its first draft. I'd hired and fired a publisher, soon realizing I'd just have to do it all myself. Cut it down. Cleaned it out and gotten rid of the fat. I pushed it out as quickly as the emotions rose up in me. I published that book to save my own life. To put a period at the end of a life sentence. To stop myself from ever going back. From ever talking myself out of the truth again.
Something has clicked this month as I come back around on the same time I was finishing the book last year. I hired an editor I could not be more thrilled with to go through the entire manuscript so we can make it it's absolute best! So I can republish it as it deserves to be published. With all the support and pride it deserves from me.
Not just...good enough.
Which means... whether this current audio version gets published or not...I'm probably gonna re-do it anyways haha And I get it now. I needed to spend this year believing my own story. Laying down the sword I was still carrying against myself. For speaking up. For causing great discomfort. For hurting people I love.
If you'd have told me that at the beginning of this year... I would've screamed and pulled my hair out. I just wanna get things done. The last thing I wanted to do was spend more time on myself for fuck sake...
Ya see...we don't realize we have low self worth... We just see our unfortunate limitations as a painful fact. On multiple days, I've expressed a negative self belief and then called myself egotistical or self serving at the thought of trying to change it or question it and my husband's reply is always, "Babe. But you were raised by complete narcissists. They needed you to think of yourself that way." To think of life that way.
To think that my success is just... a moment of luck. A glitch in the matrix. That if someone thinks I'm attractive they've just caught me on a good day. That wealth and health is fleeting. That people are only humoring me. That I don't deserve to be who I think I am. Who I know I am.
So in all honesty...I'm proud of myself for getting my book out. I'm proud of myself for sharing my story and taking my life back. Don't get me wrong there. But I also know the talk in my own mind has been, "Now you've said enough little girl. You've had your time. Please have a seat. Stop trying to fly higher. You survived. Isn't that good enough?"
I've been trying trying trying to get it all done. To get it all out before the universe realizes I've cheated the system and slams the door in my face! But I mean, at least I go it out. I survived....I mean isn't that good enough?
I think I deserve to see just how different life can be now. To see what happens when I give my all to creating, rather than surviving or escaping. To stop looking over my shoulder for the prison warden and finally get comfortable sitting in the sun.
I think many of us that have survived a life of trauma that we didn't even know was...traumatic... we have a voice inside us crying, " But I am real! I am a real person! I am here now!"
We hear people say things like, "You deserve to take up space-" And we agree! But we may really only feel comfortable renting for most our lives. Asking permission every time we stand to speak and rushing through the words.
It doesn't feel good enough to just get it out. To just get it done anymore. I wanna be great. I think I deserve to be great. To grow EVEN MORE. We all do!
The little signs and pictures saying, "You're good enough." They're not wrong! And I've very much appreciated that message on many days. But I think I'd like to add to it, "You're good enough to be great."