Iām noticing, with curiosity and (my best attempt at) non-judgement, that Iām in a strange place at the moment.
These past few months have seen my health improve dramatically, after a really challenging period, in response to committed effort with the help and support of my health practitioners and family. This is such a joyful relief.
As Iāve improved physically, mentally and emotionally, Iāve become inspired to write and share again, after what felt like a long period of hibernation. It feels so good.
And yet, thereās a part of me that is holding back.
I am learning to accept and embrace that I love putting myself out there and sharing. And with my words and imagery, that is so joyful and satisfying. But itās also safe, because I can hide behind my screen to achieve this. But there is a part of me that yearns to share more – more intimately, more of me. I donāt want to hide, I want to express myself.
There have been instances where Iāve contemplated sharing a photo or video of myself. Nothing outrageous, just more me.
But the contemplation doesnāt last long. Iām experiencing a period of self-consciousness & my self-confidence is shot, because it seems that the final frustrating and baffling hurdle of my health journey is stubbornly plastered across my face for the world to see. Painful cystic acne that has returned with a vengeance, rosacea, and eye problems that refuse to be hidden under makeup. It all got too much today, and I felt sore and sorry for myself, and the tears flowed.
Iām not fishing for sympathy or reassurance (or advice!). Reassurance is useless when you donāt believe it for yourself. And I trust that thereās a lesson for me in this experience, and that working through it myself, with selective support, will bring me to a place of acceptance and healing.
Iām sharing for the reason I always do – sharing about my experiences is part of who I am, it feels good, and it might serve someone who is reading.
Itās interesting to observe how this has rattled me. I take pride in my appearance, and like to look my best, but I didnāt consider myself to be vain or overly concerned with my looks. And yet, this experience has demonstrated that when my perception of my appearance falls so far short of what I believe to be an acceptable standard, it affects me in so many ways. How I show up in public. How I feel about socialising with friends and family. How I panic when a loved one moves to kiss me on the cheek. How much I avoid interacting with strangers. What my inner voice says when I look in the mirror. And how I hide as much as possible.
There was a point when I thought that the best thing for me to do would be to overcome this self-consciousness by feeling the fear and doing it anyway – selfies, videos, just rip off the bandaid and get over it. But on reflection, I donāt think thatās what I need, I donāt think it would be helpful, and itās just not where Iām at. Vulnerability can be a beautiful thing, but it needs to be held in a container of trust. Itās self preservation to know the difference between baring your soul in a trusting relationship compared with the local gossip. And putting my face online right now would feel like giving the town gossip flyers to hand out to everyone with the headline āDoesnāt she look hideousl!ā
Iāll come out of my shell and grow my visibility when Iām good & ready. Itās healthy to acknowledge that I donāt possess the trust required to so yet. And itās ok to be gentle with myself. I make the rules.
In the meantime, Iāll keep sharing from the heart, from behind the screen, in the way that feels good. š
Image by Lidya Nada on Unsplash