My Journey to Dare Greatly
I mentioned this book on my blog way back in September.
I have to tell you, that reading the book brings on some very messy feelings. Just THINKING about writing my thoughts about the book makes me feel nauseous. I have had this post in draft form since October. Blank. Empty. Staring me down. Over Thanksgiving, I challenged myself to write this post before we got out for Winter Break. I got most of it down, but still couldn't post it yet. So as my New Year's Resolution to be more vulnerable, here we go.
As I worked through the book guide, the first activity was to define vulnerability in your own terms. This is what I wrote:
showing weakness
powerless
no control
being completely open
Clearly, I have did not have a high opinion about this tricky little adjective.
Through her writing, Brene Brown is challenging my definition of the word. She hooked me on page 2 with this little gem of a quote...
My first thought after reading that was, "but I have to at least PRETEND to be perfect and REALLY PRETEND to be bulletproof. Yea, yea, I know. Mistakes are proof that you are trying, you need to have a growth mindset, stay positive, and all that other good stuff I tell students every single day. But to be completely honest with you, I have a hard time believing any of that. I have an even harder time giving myself a break.
I had a lot of realizations as I read through the book. Maybe someday I will feel brave enough to share them all. For now, I will just share 3 key things that I have recognized in myself.
1. I don't like asking for help.
I am really working on this one. I am, but it's hard. In my mind, I am capable of getting it all done and everything will be just fine. The next thing you know, I am melting down and thinking, "why didn't I ask someone to help me." I guess I don't want to burden anyone. I have to say that this past year really shed some light on this issue for me. While I am stubborn and prideful, I am thankful that there are people who know me well enough to know when I need to be forced into letting them help me. And maybe they realize that I am not ok before I even do.
2016 has been tough. Maybe one of the toughest years yet. The spring brought my first season of test administration. Between the amount of work that goes into it, not having a clue what to do most of the time, and the need to be perfect...I was a mess. From February to May I was in a constant state of stress. I told people I was on the STAARvation diet because I lost about 15 pounds from forgetting to eat lunch or being too busy. I also developed a pretty decent Vitamin D deficiency and now have prescription strength vitamins. The fourth grade team always made sure I had eaten my lunch. They realized there were many days that I did not have time to eat and would force me out of my office, away from the computer, to come eat with them. When I looked like a deer in headlights, they helped me stop for a minute, take a deep breath, and always helped me laugh.
And that was the easy stuff...
2 days before the May STAAR test, my dad was hospitalized. He wound up staying in the hospital for 62 days and having 9 different surgeries. Meanwhile, I came to work. I didn't cry. I didn't ask for help. I just did my job. People asked me later how I held it together and I am really not sure the answer to that question. The sad part is, I think I held it together because of the fear of vulnerability. I didn't want to "lose it" because I was worried I would never get it back. I didn't want people to pity me and heaven forbid give me that sad, "I feel so sorry for you" look.
When my dad was in the hospital, my coworkers and our school community didn't ask, "What do you need?" They said, "We are bringing you dinner, we are bringing food for the nurses, we are bringing you lunch." It wasn't a question. If it had been, the answer would have been, "I'm fine." I am forever grateful for people who know you well enough to just know how to take care of you. For my part, I will work on asking for help before I am too far gone to even know how someone could help me.
2. I have a hard time talking about how I really feel.
Is that weird that a counselor doesn't want to talk about her own feelings? I kind of feel like it is. I just want to put on a brave face or make a joke out of something that is uncomfortable. Don't let them see you sweat. I guess I don't want to make people uncomfortable with big emotional displays. I don't want people to think I am weak or need to be taken care of. All that to say, I never think that about anyone else. If someone else is hurting, I want to talk it out, wrap them up, and help them. I don't know why I think I am not worthy of the same treatment.
I tend to hold it all in until I break, have one big emotional breakdown over something, then move on. Clinically speaking, this is unhealthy. I am really going to make an effort to be proactive in talking to my "people" about things that are bothering me. I am really lucky to have an amazing set of friends and family who will listen, I need to make sure I am communicating with them.
3. I am my own harshest critic.
I know that no one is judging me like I am judging myself. Or if they are, they need to get a life because it takes a lot of time and energy to judge that harshly. I need to give myself a break sometimes. When I do open up to my very closest friends, they help bring me back down to earth and remind me not to be so hard on myself.
Part of being vulnerable is being open to your own imperfections and owning them. Challenge accepted!
Here's to 2017 and being more vulnerable. What are your resolutions?