That which seems to have twisted your life or personality for the worst is the very thing that will heal you and give you meaning.

Thomas Moore ~ Dark Night of the Soul

I wrote this quote in my journal during the early days. When Austin first came out to me, everything was so raw and full of pain. I struggled to reconcile what this meant for my marriage, my faith and my own self esteem. While these words gave me a bit of hope, I felt more despair and disappointment than anything in those early days.

Nearly a decade later, I can look back and see the truth in Thomas Moore’s words. The things that twisted my life and nearly broke me have become agents of healing and truly have given my life meaning.

But in the moment, when the world has shattered, nothing is as it seems. It’s incredibly hard to believe that anything good can come from this necessary shattering.

A mere puppet

Sometimes the pain resurfaces and catches me off guard. Then I feel as if the tears of a thousand or more drops are there, waiting. That if I were to start the flow, it would never stop. Other times the pain is so sharp and big that it feels I’ve been split down the middle of my soul. It’s all the losses, rolled up in a ball of barbs and nails and glass…Sometimes my soul can only weep in stunned agony as I realize again what these losses have cost me.

A young girl cannot tell when she is consenting to the murder of her soul, when the essence of who she is has been destroyed and a horrible horrible imitation set up instead – one that meets the needs of those around her, with no thoughts to her own because she has no ‘own.’ Given no voice, no space, no privacy in the big scheme of things, no individuality, she has become a mere puppet.

How does one go about reclaiming the original soul – that feminine soulfulness? Is it possible to be emotionally born again?”

Journal entry from the early days

In the blur of those early days after the shattering, I felt like a mere puppet. I knew that I was hungry for something more, desperate for ME to be alive and real. I knew that I was a mere imitation of something deeper and true, even when I did not have the words to sort it out.

My husband had invited me to join him on his journey towards authenticity but I discover that there was no free ride. I had to do my own work. As tired and confused as my soul was, it was also desperately hungry.

The last few weeks I have been writing about the names Queer people choose to help frame their identity. Naming is so important for the LGBTQ+ community as they embrace authenticity. It is equally important for the rest of us to embrace authenticity in our lives.

embracing authenticity

Before I could embrace my own authenticity, I had to figure out who I was. Waking up in a mixed orientation marriage shattered the illusion of life as I thought it was. As utterly painful as this was, it was a necessary shattering. I could then sift through the broken bits and find who I really was. It started with giving myself permission to have thoughts, feelings, dreams and a voice of my own.

It was a shocking revelation that my worth was not in what I did, but in who I was.

The problem was, destructive patterns had long been in motion. As a child, I was noticed and praised when I worked hard, and sacrificed my own wants and needs for someone else. In fact, living a life of sacrifice was held up as a noble cause. When the heart is young, one tends to repeat that which works. This method of getting affirmation soon became a habit.

It was a shocking revelation that my worth was not rooted in what I did, but in who I was. By the time of the shattering, I had spent well over a decade officially volunteering for various organizations. Unofficially, I had served others my whole life. I could fill a book with the acts of services performed and the money given away or never earned. While many of these things I did truly came from my heart and were acts of love, much of it was also born out of “shoulds” and expectations.

Moving back to the US and giving up the noble title of volunteer was shattering in its own way. I felt I had nothing to offer the mainstream market, no job skills or college degree to back me up. The identity of a decade+ was gone and my perceived value along with it.

The gift of the shattering

The first winter after we moved back to the US, I was fortunate enough to be able to stay home. For the first time since high school, I didn’t have a job description or position to fill. I had time and space to be, getting to know myself like never before as I pondered, read, wrote and dreamed. I gave myself permission to rest. Hope began to fill the raw edges as I learned how to be my own best friend. This necessary shattering gave me the gift of being able to see myself – in all of my glory and all of my shadows- so that I could then love that self that had been tucked away beneath a facade of what everyone else thought my life should look like.

Like a worm in a chrysalis, slowly metamorphosing into what it was meant to be all along, I was changing from the inside out.

Becoming your own best friend

While I wish I had a magic formula to share with you, one that guarantees a quick and smooth journey to authenticity, I have discovered it is much too mystical and unique to be bound to a series of steps. Your journey will be as unique as you are. My only piece of advice is to start listening to yourself. Our bodies are incredibly wise and can tell us more than our brain at times. Pay attention to how you feel. If you are doing something your brain tells you is good and right but you consistently feel drained by it, maybe it is not the best thing for you. Give yourself permission to say “no” to things. Take time to step back and work out the things that give you life and energy. Do what it takes to become your own best friend.

My necessary shattering was the catalyst that force start me onto this journey. On the other side of the deepest pain, I found a life that was better than I could have ever imagined.

Click on the button above to send me an email and I will let you know when new posts are up! If you or someone you love is in the closet, or if you are struggling with your own guttural grief and need someone to talk to, email me. I may not have time to answer you but I will read it and hold you in my heart.