Permission to feel

shutterstock_1490808767 copy.jpg

How have we found ourselves in the ironic position, where we feel bad about feeling? Why do we feel shame or discomfort for having emotions? Somehow, our feelings have become the bad guy. The villain. And rational thought the hero. Our emotions have become undervalued. The head has become the victor of the heart.

Friends of mine are making a really big life-changing decision. One involving lots of money. One involving lots of change. Talking with them about it, as they shared their plans, I shared my joy for where they were at, ‘How super exciting!’ I said. Which was met with, ‘Yep, but we are trying to keep the emotion out of this decision, and go through the steps logically.’ What the hell? Why? For any decision to be made, emotion and thought have to be in tandem. You can’t actually make a decision on intellect and logic alone. It isn’t possible!

Phineas Gage taught us that. If you haven’t heard of him, look him up. He lived in the 1800s. Was a railway worker foreman. Just an ordinary bloke until one day he had a significant accident and miraculously survived. And in doing so, changed the course of history and how we view the workings of our brains today. On the afternoon of 13 September 1948, Gage was overseeing the blasting of rock and the preparation of the road bed for a railway line in Vermont. Distracted by his men behind him, he turned to look at them, opened his mouth to speak and in a freak incident the powder in the hole he had been packing down with his tampering iron, exploded. The tampering iron shot out of the hole and through Gage’s jaw, past his eye and out of the top of his skull, to land bloodied some 25 metres away. Gage survived but his frontal lobe was seriously damaged. He lost his ability to feel emotions and this not only impacted his personality and behaviour, it also stopped him from being able to make decisions. He no longer had a preference, only apathy.

Turning emotions off to make a decision is a bad idea. Particularly if you are making a big decision. Imagine trying to use logic alone to decide if to marry, to have children, buy a house, move house, quit your job, take another job, relocate your life or any of the myriad of big decisions that make through the course of our lives. You need your emotions to help you make those decisions - you need to feel love, fear, excitement and trepidation.

Our issue with emotions is not isolated to decision making. It goes much deeper and much further. Our emotions are important. They guide us, keep us safe and motivate us. They help us navigate between right and wrong. To fit suitably and appropriately into our social constructs. Without them we would be at best robots, at worst psychopaths. And yet, throughout life we are taught to suppress our emotions. It starts from the very beginning. As a baby, our cries are met with a ‘shh’, ‘shh’, ‘shh’. As a young toddler if we are boisterous in play showing great joy we are told to ‘calm down’. As a teenager if we are sad, we are told to ‘cheer up.’ By the time we reach adulthood the script is set: having emotions is bad. And they have become taboo. And there is shame in feeling our feelings. Show passion and you are at risk of being considered too intense. Show fear and you are at risk of being seen as cowardice. Show tears of frustration or sadness and you are at risk of being called unhinged. But what are we meant to be instead? Without emotions we are nothing but big cold lumps of clay.

Without emotion music would not move us. Without emotion poetry would not exist. Without emotion we cannot be in awe of significance, grateful for the mundane, or appreciate what is before us. We rely on our emotions to heal. We need them to make connections. So, give yourself permission to feel. Give yourself permission for others to see that you feel. That you really feel. Show the world big love. Show the world big fear. Show the world that you are an emotional being. And show the people around you how to feel.

Allow the children around you to feel their emotions. Let’s make sure the next generation and those to come, have deep respect for their emotions; and understand how powerful they are in shaping our lives. Lead by example. Embrace your emotions. Trust them. Celebrate them. But whatever you do, don’t bury them. Don’t hide them. Don’t bottle them up. Allow yourself to feel excited, at the risk of feeling disappointed. Allow yourself to feel happy, at the risk of feeling sad. Allow yourself to feel hope at the risk of feeling despair. Listen to your heart. To feel is to know you are human. To feel is to know you are alive.

Life of a fraud: on deceiving myself

shutterstock_1376287937.jpg

I have been living the life of a fraud. A trickster, an imposter. I have been disingenuous. Lying to myself. Dishonest and deceitful.

This hard cold fact, hit me with full force as I was walking to work and listening to a podcast. Completely engrossed in the story being told, I did not realise what was going on deeper in my mind, behind the scenes. My subconscious was processing a story so completely distant from my own. Yet from the words came a pain for me so great, I almost double over on the spot, onto the pavement, as cars drove by with parents inside; people rushing to drop their children to school.

The instigator of my own undoing in that moment was the incredibly talented Janet Mock, her podcast is one in a series I am obsessed with listening to at the moment: Oprah’s Super Soul Conversations. I have been listening to them in order, working my way down the list from the most recent to older ones, until a new one pops up and then I listen to the latest. I have given myself over to the order and release of new podcasts. They dictate what I listen to. I have let the universe decide what I need to hear that day, and try to be open to whatever lands. On this particular day it was Janet Mock, the director, writer and producer of one of my favourite shows Pose - which I love for bringing to the world the reality and the stories about ‘New York City's African-American and Latino LGBTQ and gender-nonconforming ballroom culture scene’ of the 80s. In the podcast, Janet talks about ‘The Path to Authenticity: Embracing the Otherness.’ When I started the podcast I did not make the connection that she was the director, writer and producer of Pose. Even though, I was excited to listen, because of the title, because I have been thinking deeply for some time about how people find their authentic self, and I believe we are all on this journey throughout life, on the path to authenticity. I have come to the realisation that it is the journey that we must cherish: the moments of wondering lost, the elation of discovering, the peace in finding a checkpoint, the anticipation and excitement of moving on again to continue the search. And I have come to terms with the fact that the destination - authenticity - is simply the pulley wheel or axle designed to support our movement, our change in direction along the taut cable of life.

On a fresh winter’s morning, walking at a steady, rhythmic pace to work, protecting my ears from the cold with my headphones, keeping warm in a scarf and enjoying the soft winter sunshine on my cheeks, I lost myself in Janet’s story of otherness. Her story of being born a girl in a boy’s body; of having her parents ‘express her gender for her’ but knowing from a very young age that the expression of her true self did not align with ‘what those around her deemed normal.’ Janet’s story and her words of wisdom are inspirational. Janet tells her story factually, but with profound emotion. You know a good storyteller when they crack something open deep inside you; where you find yourself sobbing or laughing out loud as you read a book or listen to a podcast. Or when you feel that kick in the guts, the seismic shift in your soul, the fog clearing from your perception, as you suddenly come to a realisation about yourself - through their story, through their words.

‘Telling our stories allows us to connect with one another, but most importantly, it allows us to connect with ourselves.’ Janet Mock

Sliding doors

Perhaps it was her words ‘turned out different’ that held me as Janet spoke about being different to what her parents expected her to be. Perhaps it was Janet talking about her otherness that made me think of my own otherness during my childhood; as a child of parents who were Lithuanian immigrants. Of feeling separate from life at times, almost like I was an observer of life, not a participant. Maybe it was hearing Janet talk about the moment she realised for the first time there was a disconnect in herself, when she took a dare and wore her grandmother’s flowery muumuu, perhaps it was her words ‘it wasn’t funny to me, because it was the first time that I realised that the me I knew myself to be was not right’. Maybe it was hearing her talking about learning to ‘hide who she really was’ which got me. I didn’t have her incredible journey, or anything comparable. But listening to her story, I reflected on how I felt my life had ‘turned out different’ to what I expected it to be; and I felt something familiar when she said ‘the me I knew myself to be was not right’. I knew I was hiding ‘who I really was’. Although her story is her story, Janet doesn’t let you escape your own and tells us we must ‘turn up the frequency of our own truths’.

‘We all do this, we all put up fronts to protect our unspoken and unexpressed self. Sometimes it is easiest to conceal our truths by blending in.’ Janet Mock

It was on Janet’s last line in the podcast, that I felt a sharp physical pain in my chest. A pain which stopped me walking. It sounds so ridiculously cliché, but I felt a ‘stab in my heart’ and it ‘stopped me in my tracks’. There is a reason for clichés, they are often accurate. Standing stiff, grabbing at my chest I felt the grief of a regret spill out of me. A regret and a sadness I did not realise I had been carrying for nearly a quarter of a century. The regret of my 24 year-old self applying for a respected professional writing course, a difficult one to get into with limited spots. Of having to submit pieces to get into this course. Which I did, getting an offer of a place. Published writers have come out of this course. Novels and memoirs have landed on the shelves from this course.

What came home to me, and for me, listening to Janet’s story, was that often we are ‘too afraid to say out loud what we secretly know’ about ourselves. Too afraid, no matter how big or small those truths about our identity might be to the world. Janet’s is big, hers is about gender identity and embracing her otherness. Mine is much smaller. It is about identifying your true calling in life. For me, it is about identifying as a writer. Sitting comfortably with the fact that I was born to write, and I will die writing.

In that instant I felt, physically, the regret of making the wrong decision all those years ago. Of not accepting that course. Of choosing an editing and publishing course instead. Because it was the safer thing to do. Job prospects were better. Because I was too afraid to embrace my true self. My writing self. It was much safer to hide her behind an editor. Or a communications manager or a marketing manager.

I paused, breathed and started walking up the hill. I was surprised at this revelation, which felt like it came out of nowhere. I had no idea I had been carrying the grief of that decision for so long. And it was in that moment that it lifted. And I laughed, with lightness, as I realised I had been living the life of a fraud. I was a fraud. I had been pretending to ‘not be a writer’. I was pretending to be things which allowed me to write, but which did not allow me to call myself a writer. I was not owning my true self. I laughed because in that moment I realised that you cannot run away from yourself, from your calling, from what you are here to do. It follows you. The writer inside me has alway been there, she has been stalking me ever since that day I turned my back on giving it a go because I had already made up my mind that I would fail. That I wouldn’t become a published author. But she didn’t care, she has been incredibly patient. She created this blog. Which was originally about branding, until I came to terms with who she was and the fact she wasn’t going away. She was happy to sit in the back seat while the communications manager and marketing manager sat in front holding the steering wheel of life. But she is here and she is not letting me get away with it. Twenty four years later, she is looking back at me in the mirror. The writer.

Ask yourself the question

My journey to come to terms with my true self as a writer only started when I had the courage to come out of hiding from behind ‘the brand specialist’ and start writing about things I really cared about, and what just spilled out of me. It took speed when others saw me as a writer. When people I knew started calling me a writer. When people reached out to thank me for my writing. When recently, someone asked me not to stop writing. That was when the back door and the front door opened and my writing self had the opportunity to take the front seat. I had to see myself through the eyes of others, in order to give myself permission to be able to see myself as a writer through my own eyes. For those people, I will be forever grateful.

However, I am perplexed by the fact that something which gives me such great joy, I have not embraced proudly. Something which comes so naturally and pours out of my fingers from a source I cannot identify, I am shy about. That I almost feel ashamed to say it out loud. That I need permission from others to own it. I know as I write these words, there are people out there, who will read them and identify with them. They too will realise that they have been running from their true self, from their calling in life. They too are ashamed of saying out loud their childhood dream, the thing that brings them most joy. They too have become lost in the easiness of being someone else. They too are waiting for permission to get into the front seat of life.

Don’t wait for the permission of others. Give yourself permission to be who you truly are. Give yourself permission to be your authentic self. Listen to the voice within you. Set yourself free with a simple question Janet asked herself in order to find her true self. A question we should not shy away from, no matter where we are in our lives, no matter how much ground is behind us.

‘A question we should ask ourselves, whether we are twelve or twenty, or in the twilight of our lives. Who am I? Who am I to me? That is the question.’ Janet Mock.

Your true self

I listened again to the podcast, and Janet Mock telling her story, in order to write this piece. A piece I hope will encourage people to listen to the stories of others in order to find their own truth. For people to have the same experience I had - to be slapped with the reality of the importance to ‘unapologetically embrace ourselves’. In my second listening, I heard consciously the words that spoke to my subconscious that day. Words, which primed me during that half hour to Janet’s closing statement. Words which set me up as they placed themselves somewhere deep inside me, ready to support an awakening, as I walked past the park, along the shops, across the crossing, over the railway line, down the hill, under the underpass and onto the pavement by the school. Janet says it perfectly.

‘My hope is that in hearing my story, you are propelled to excavate that part of yourself that you have been hiding - and you allow others to see you for who you are, without doubt, without shame, without apology. My hope is you step outside the comfort of your boxes, and holy and boldly be your truest fiercest self. ‘ Janet Mock