THE DISCOMFORT ZONE
Ernest Hemmingway once said: “Write hard and clear about what hurts.”
I’ve always thought this was good advice. It’s what has fueled me for the last 20 years since I started journaling. I only recently started sharing what I’ve written and the parts of myself that I typically keep sheltered within the past year. I can thank my mom for getting started for that, actually. She always used to encourage me to put myself out there because she knew what a strong passion I held for writing and for literature.
But let’s face it—putting yourself out there can be frightening. It’s vulnerability in its purest form. The world in which we live today is highly opinionated and judgmental. And sharing your feelings and emotions is not something that comes easy for some. It has certainly never come easy for me…at least verbally.
I’ve always been a self-proclaimed “chief” of sorts. I find a sense of relief in being able to keep my shit together in challenging times. For me it represents self-control. And a lot of the time it’s easy. You don’t have to allow the outside world in and share anything; you just execute and get through things alone and the outside perception of being able to be strong is gratifying in a way. But just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean it’s easy. It can be very lonesome at times. It’s isolation at its best.
I have found myself a little rattled this week…like I’m about to lose my shit. I always know when the onset of grief is coming these days, especially after my mom died last year. I knew when I woke up this morning today would be a struggle. I’m feeling unsettled this week because of the looming uncertainty of my professional future. I know this is normal, and I know I have prepared as well as I could for it. It still doesn’t remove the emotional component of building something great and watching it all slip between your fingers like a fine grain sand.
Watching the team we built at work gradually disappear. The clients we have helped be repositioned. The goals these clients have achieved through our relationships with them realized, now belonging to someone else. And having to allocate all of these things in the appropriate direction forward. It has been similar to watching someone die in a way.
Death has a funny way of teaching you a lot about yourself and it also has a funny way of making you change things about yourself, too. Prior to my mom dying last year I lived a very self-contained life. I’ve always been the friend, colleague, and romantic partner who was the pillar of strength—the go-to person inside of the relationship. Financial support. Advice. Comfort. Emotional support. A personal shrink without the cost. And I leveraged my journal to keep myself sane. Other times I would run away for an out-of-town adventure and deflect to fun to cope with my own demons. Very rarely would I allow someone access to the innermost workings of my brain or my heart. Those who are the closet to me know this about me. They are also the few who have been able to gain access to become my village, forcing me to get out of my own way.
I have always found it difficult to fully open up to people, which most may find hard to believe considering the extroverted side of me paints a different picture. While I am open in many ways, I am typically only superficially open about my life on a personal level. I’ve always been the fun friend, the humorous friend, the loyal friend, or the person you call to take your mind off of grown up life to go have fun with. And while I enjoy all of these things, too, and spending this time with my friends there is also that part of me who wants this person to lean on as well. But it’s a double-edged sword: you can’t want something you aren’t willing to allow.
This is one of numerous reasons my ex-husband and I didn’t see things the same way. But then again, I’m glad I kept myself closed off because it would have been wasted energy and effort. While I trusted my instincts to protect myself from being too emotionally invested (a lesson learned in hindsight), it begs the question and challenge for me to be different for the next person—the right person. I think it’s our intrinsic nature to be guarded and understandably so. The world is full of crazy, selfish, unreliable people and these aren’t exactly the people you want to make a huge emotional commitment to because they are almost always short-term people. When instinct takes over, you always know the right moment in which you can disclose yourself to someone; I’ve never found this to be a challenge with my closest friends or the core group of people who know me best. Even if it does take me longer to get there with them.
In learning all of these unfavorable lessons about myself over the course of the past three years, I’ve also learned how to be different moving forward. I am a firm believer that when you are in full understanding of yourself—all of the good, the bad, and the ugly—the right things will come along in your life. I quit looking outward a long time ago simply because I was content being alone and firmly felt that if the right people were to enter my life, I would just know and I wouldn’t be reserved or guarded. One other thing I firmly believe in, too, is to trust my instincts now. When something doesn’t feel right, I abandon ship before making any investments. And thus far, it has worked out for the best for everyone involved.
Just like unexpected events will arrive in your life, so will unexpected people. These are the kind of people you never see coming. But if you are willing to pay attention and you are willing to be different, these kind of encounters yield a return beyond the realm of intellectual understanding. So for anyone who doubts (and I have been one of those people)—the right people will enter your life (likely at the least opportune time) and will completely shake you to your core. And you will welcome it because it feels right.
Regardless of timing, life events happening around you, or however deep your drive is to continue as you always have, I can tell you that when moments like these happen you need to embrace them because they rarely happen. And when they do happen, challenge yourself to be different and accepting and willing to allow these people access to your soul. The growth you will experience and the depth you will achieve will be far greater than the risk of being hurt. You are never guaranteed anything in this life. Of this I am 100% certain after the past year. But I can tell you that once you achieve this level of intimacy with a person, everything will make sense and you will lead without hesitation because the feelings will be mutual.
And like Hemmingway says about writing what hurts, you should share the hurt with the people who have a genuine concern, too. Vulnerability may be messy, feel funny, or be out of your comfort zone. You never grow until you’re willing to be uncomfortable.
As for the people who love you? They’ll help push you along.
And you’ll let them because you’re at home with them.
-BWT
“We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we are not alone.”