Expanding into the spaces we occupy

Allowing ourselves to be seen, heard and held.

I am a private person. I am not the woman who gathers with her gang of girlfriends for weekends away and dinners at nice restaurants and talks loudly and openly about her life. It takes a long time (sometimes years) for me to open up to others, to share the small details about the things that keep me awake at night, the traumas, large and small, of my life, and those experiences that add up to the ‘me’ I have become over the last 52 years.

I prefer one-on-one conversations. I like to lean in, ask questions, listen. I will often deflect questions about myself - of course, I do this as a way of avoiding intimacy ( all those years of talk therapy, and that’s my biggest takeaway), but I also do it as a way of keeping people at a safe distance. This is probably one of the reasons why I became a coach and teacher because it allows me to be there fully for another without having to share anything of myself.

I’ve recently joined a small writer’s group. We meet once a week, as we’re currently working through The Artist’s Way, but over the weeks, our conversations are starting to move beyond the realm of “Did you do your morning pages every day this week?” and into the realm of…life. We talk about family, art, creativity, and fear. It is fast becoming the highlight of my week.

This week, when it was my turn to share, I broke down and cried. I spoke about how lost I’ve been feeling lately and how I’ve struggled to find meaning and purpose in my work. I described how exhausted I am by the constant grind of marketing and content creation for my business and how lonely the journey can be as a solo business owner. I mean, I have been struggling for months, but the only person I have deeply confided in about this is my partner.

I didn’t intend to be so open and vulnerable with this group of beautiful women I barely know. I didn’t intend to share so much. But once I started, I found I couldn’t stop. And it was such a relief to allow myself to be seen, heard and held. Without judgement. With nothing but kindness and love.

With this group of women, I feel I have a safe space to exhale, to let go, and to be. In this group, I am finally finding the courage to call myself a writer. I have sat on this Substack for over a year. Today, with their support, I found the courage to write this, my first post.

It is a far more vulnerable post than I had intended, and perhaps few people will read it. Still, rather than seeing this platform as another mask to wear, I am using it as a platform - a community - to share whatever is in my heart, without worrying whether a client will see it and change their opinion about me or even whether anyone will like what I write.

I will write for me, and hopefully, someone, somewhere, will read it and think, “Me too.”

For all the scared, brave introverts out there, this is for you.