When speaking my truth felt unsafe


Speaking my truth used to feel like a huge risk.


Taking this chance felt like I was jumping into the deep end of the pool without knowing how to swim while the lifeguard was taking a lunch break. I’ve been averse to taking this chance that subconsciously felt like (but wasn’t actually) death.


And looking back now, it makes sense. When I would say the honest thing to my mom, and she would freak out because of her lack of emotional regulation tools, then saying what’s on my mind didn’t feel safe. It felt like it would only create drama for a sensitive kid who was absorbing someone else’s emotions. I’ve grown closer to my mom and others because I see clearly that others’ emotions don’t have to be mine (strong energetic boundaries over here!!).


But I knew taking this risk had to be worth it if I could make a bigger impact in the spaces I inhabit, the communities or organization I’ve been a part of, and connect more meaningfully with others.


I shifted by first accepting that this thing I’m about to blurt out will be imperfect but I’m gonna do it anyway because I’m building a muscle.


Then I stopped worrying about whether it was perfect, and instead focused on whether my intention was clearly received.


Then I started noticing that all of us are doing the best they can with what we know. And that compassion for myself as I’m expressing myself, along with compassion for those I’m listening creates an opening for curiosity, while breaking down barriers to connecting and relating to one another.


And finally I learned that part of loving myself includes saying the things that allow me to give more generously, contribute and connect more meaningfully.

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