Sex is great and all...

...but like, have you ever had someone cancel plans on you last minute?

Well, if I’ve ever cancelled on you last minute…you’re welcome. Hope it was as good for you as it was for me.

And also, I was probably little-white-lying about why…sry…

The thing is…canceling plans, opting out of commitments and making yourself unavailable to the requests of others…all because you simply don’t feel like it…is somewhat taboo amidst a culture conditioned to please.

And being totally unreservedly honest about your needs with someone else is decidedly one of the most vulnerable things we can find the courage to do.

So, for the better part of my life, whenever admitting my truth meant also exposing the parts of myself that didn’t match what I thought someone wanted me to be…

…either my throat would squeeze shut and my mind would produce something more palatable to offer as an “out”…

…or I would opt to abandon myself, suck it up and do the thing I didn’t want to do.

I’m not sure when “I’m sorry, but I just don’t have the energy”...or “I know I was super excited a couple weeks ago when we planned this, but I’m in a different space today. I don’t want to let you down but I need to reschedule”...became so shameful to admit?

I’m also not sure when events like baby showers for people you barely know became obligatory just because you got an invitation…

…or when voicing your preference for what movie to go to or what restaurant to order from turned into an inner game of guessing what the other person wants so we could say that’s what we want, too?

All I know is that for years the thought of being the difficult one…the hard to please one…or the snotty, self-centered one…made my face burn with shame.

On one hand, the risk of facing the judgment that’s so often woven into the fibers of being misunderstood always felt too high stakes…too “not worth it”...and too complicated to explain away…

…but also, and I think harder than that ^ even, was the anticipated fallout from letting someone down because I showed them who I really was…and feeling the need to somehow defend that part of me so I wouldn’t be labeled as something gossip-worthy.

Truth?

I have always had this hang-up about giving my time and energy to others.

Literally nine out of ten times the plans I do make will usually be rescheduled once or twice before I actually feel ready to follow through with them.

I think the socially approved label for this way of orienting to the world is “introverted”? Though I never fully identified with that either…it always felt too simplistic for what I was actually experiencing.

I think because all along it was actually less about the time I was giving away that I felt resistance around…and more about my experience of how I felt I had to show up that I was protecting myself from. 

It’s normal, I think, to create ever-so-slightly nuanced versions of ourselves for the different corners of our lives. Likeeee the relationship we have with our bestie is light years different from the one we have with a teacher…or that estranged cousin we randomly see every 5 years-ish at Christmas (lol hi, it me)

But for me, I think that constantly omitting and never truly letting anyone know the most honest parts of me when it counted the most…is what eventually felt so draining.

It was kinda like every interaction asked me to sift through my inner world for the “right” doppelganger that would give whomever whatever they needed, liked the most, or expected me to show up as.

And so…for a lot of years I pushed a lot of people away. I slow-ghosted almost all of my friends…I stopped going to family events…I overhauled my business so I didn’t have to do sales calls anymore…I basically curated a few tiny spaces I felt safe bringing all of myself into…and let everything else slip slowly away.

But a point came where consciously creating a safe space to heal turned into a space to hide.

It was so easy to convince myself that I didn’t want more people in my life…that I didn’t need more friends or desire a social life. I had years of evidence to pull from to prove why that might feel correct for me. But when I got really honest with myself…what I was actually avoiding was the pain of having to mask-up again. 

So, amidst a new, dull ache of loneliness…I started to wonder:

What if I just…didn’t?

What if I gave myself the chance to be understood instead of assuming that I wouldn’t be?

What if I was just totally honest about what I needed, who I was, and what I thought at every turn and trusted that I would either be received in that…or I wouldn’t be…and that both outcomes were totally okay by me?

What if I stopped trying to control the way the world saw me and I just focused on how I saw myself?

And so…I started by politely RSVP-ing a gentle “I’m not available that day'' to a baby shower invite that I had no excuse not to attend other than the fact that…well…I hate them…they drain me…and I didn’t want to go.

Oof…that felt scary.  

But instead of creating some bullshit reason as to why…I just let the thick fog of my “no” linger. I felt into the aesthetic of it and welcomed the freedom it brought me…all while I patiently held the undercurrent of shame like an unwelcome guest that my truth had invited to the surface.

Of course shame would be here, I thought…of course this would feel hard…of course I would be worried about what others would say about my absence…but if this really was my truth - how can I be with it in a way where I can accept all of that and still feel good about my choice?

And so, as the weight of my initial “no” lifted, it left behind a new way forward for me. It’s not that I didn’t care anymore about what others thought about me…it’s that I was starting to care more about what I thought about me.

Around this same time a new friend had come into my life…someone I felt a natural, easy connection with…and there came a day where we had made plans to talk but I was feeling energetically tapped and emotionally unavailable. 

So I decided to once again turn towards my truth and invite honesty into the room…that I would brave the vulnerability of telling her where I was at, and asking for the space I needed…

…and because I had the courage to meet myself in that…she found her own courage to try the same with me in return. And our relationship has since grown into a deeply safe, intimate and nurturing space. There is no pressure to be anything other than who we are moment by moment.

There is no shame around admitting when we’re “off” or pressure to fix or hide what didn’t fit a pinterest board version of ourselves…and there is a new kind of love and respect for each other that isn’t conditional on how comfortable we make the other person feel.

It’s actually not about comfort at all. 

It’s about feeling safe in the discomfort that has bound us so close.

This relationship invited me to reconnect with the endless capacity we all share to give of ourselves…my desire to be truly seen by others, no matter how unnerving that might feel at first…and to realize that that by buffering myself against the outside world all I did was cut myself off from my true nature.

And so, I’m trying this new thing where I try to remember myself in the presence of others…to not lose sight of what feels right for me when that might not match what someone else would prefer me to be, do or think…and to remember the ease that’s available from a connection sparked in that unhindered, unmasked place.

I’m trying to invite honesty into the room as often as I can…to be willing to hold space for others to come into contact with that honesty in a loving and patient way without diminishing, justifying or excusing myself in the process…and without needing them to understand or even accept it.

And so, even though I feel misunderstood a lot…judged sometimes…or weird about sharing what I think or what I need when I suspect the other person is in a different place than me…I mostly no longer feel burdened by it.

I try to view these moments as just another impermanent experience I’m having, something that is only uncomfortable because of the current cultural context it’s unfolding within…not because of what I shared, who I am or what I’m opting out of.

And above all, I try my best not to weaponize my truth from a place of defense or shame. I choose to believe that if I am really accepting of myself I should be able to share those parts with others gently, calmly, and lovingly…and in doing so I can offer them the gift of doing the same with me.

Thanks so much for being here 🖤 I hope these honest reflections invite you to explore similar dark and twisty crevices in your own life. I’m so proud of you for having the courage to shine a light in there and take a look.

love, Laura