Sharing is Caring

Do you ever find that a few days after a super brave moment, you suddenly feel shy or reserved? This happened to me a few days ago, and I admit it took me by surprise.

I was at a dinner gathering with four other women, and we were each asked to share about our biggest accomplishment for the year. I have totally mixed feelings about this kind of question. On one hand, I love the big picture-ness of it, the nudge to zoom out and look at my life with a wide-angle lens and see what still looms large within the new view. What I love a little less is that, because it was asked in public, I immediately found myself casting about for the "right" answer, the "best" answer to the question. What could I say that would make me look and sound good to other people? What was I "supposed" to say?

I mean, I could talk about work. I could also talk about working out. But it was only seconds before I felt my stomach turn over and start that unsettling swirling it does when I'm about to share something that scares me a little. Deep in my gut, I know that the blonde adventure from a week ago is actually one of my biggest personal accomplishments in YEARS. That was me doing what I actually wanted to do, without reference to the opinions of others - real or imagined. It was hard-won new territory, and it was DELIGHTFUL. Still, I don't typically lead with the alopecia conversation with brand new friendships, and I was still getting to know most of these women.

A silent prayer... "Lord, is it really time to talk about this? With new friends from our church, one of whom I also know from my son's school? Are we really doing this right now? If so, I'm going to need some help..."

When it was my turn to talk (and yes, I waited until everyone else had shared), I opened my mouth and talked about ... starting to exercise. Shoot. It's not a lie -- I am actually pretty happy about finally working out regularly for the first time in my life, but as soon as I said it I knew I was dodging the question. I felt that stomach churn, the bubbling up inside of me, and found myself blurting out, "ok, so do you want to know what I'm REALLY excited about this year?" And I pulled out my phone and passed around the photo of me on my anniversary weekend, blonde and grinning from ear to ear. In a rush, I told them about 25 years of alopecia and my delight in doing something new and different for the first time in ages. They grinned along with me and we laughed, and everything was...fine.

Every time I talk about this, it seems to lose a little of its power over me. Every time I feel that churning stomach and silently cry out for help, He provides and the words just come. Every time I tell someone my story, it feels a little less like shame and a little more like sharing. It feels...good.

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