Feeling vulnerable...might delete later
I want to be really transparent right now. I might even type this and delete it before I hit publish - which has been happening a lot lately.
I have a lot of thoughts that I think I want to share until I start writing them here, and they either float away into nothingness or become journal entries instead.
Sharing on the internet is a complex world.
To share or not to share? It is always the question.
I’ve done enough whining about the internet lately in recent blogs, so this post isn’t about that. It’s about me - and the waves within - and transparency.
I am a recovering self-sabotager.
My self-worth “issues” run deep, and I have often stood in my own way just when the going was gettin’ good. Like anybody recovering from a self-harming addiction, there are still times when I need to practice using the tools that once saved me from myself.
Healing is a lifetime of work. In the film Stutz by Jonah Hill (a must-watch. I’ll write about it another day, but it is so so so so good), his therapist Phil Stutz tells us that the three things nobody can escape in this life are pain, uncertainty, and constant work.
The work has been at work IN ME as I ascend a new mountain in my path as a writer. It always is when I am going after a goal. The inner critic, anxiety-filled inner child, and voice of imposter syndrome all get to work when I’m getting close to reaching a new place on the journey. Too often, I have listened to them and cut off the fuel supply out of fear.
My inner child, whom I’ve affectionately named Tink (because she be Tinkin’ too much), is the one I listen to the most. If the noise is noisy inside, chances are it’s her causing a ruckus because she feels unsafe in some way.
So, through lots of practice learning myself, I ask her with tenderness - What do you need to feel safe enough to keep going?
The answer lately has been “slow-paced steps.”
When the inner-critic gets to work telling me all the reasons things won’t work out, and I don’t deserve it, I push back with things like:
“That’s not my story.”
or
“Don’t talk to/about my friend like that.” (Something I often used when my friends are verbally expressing their distaste for themselves.)
Just as my story with my first blog, Skinny Jeans Dreams, was built on imperfection and authenticity, it’s important to me that I am being honest about who I am as a HUMAN on this earth with you right now. Because if I’m not sharing from that place, what is the point?
I’m not here to just sell you a book.
I’m here to connect.
The last few months came with a lot of change. All in the direction of something beautiful, but CHANGE nonetheless, and now the book is nearly ready to meet you all.
For me, once I hit the point of no turning back, things tend to get a little loud on the inside. I’ve been here with every book release, though, so I recognize the feelings and have done the best with what I know right now to move through them.
Once the book is out, it’s out. It doesn’t matter who I become next or what changes occur in me tomorrow - this piece of my heart and life will be cemented in print. The conundrum is that once it’s live, it’s no longer even about me - even though it carries my name, energy, and story.
Once it is born into the world, it takes on a life of its own, and the only thing I have to do is the hardest thing of all - stay.
I have to stay the course and stay leaned in.
EVEN WHEN:
My inner child, who is infamous for her worries about feeling so seen, says: “Flight…the answer is flight…why are you not running?”
“Because it’s time to be brave,” I tell her.
And my inner-critic says, “Who do you think you are?”
Krystle fuckin’ Bailey, I respond, Check the tapes.
And the voice of imposter syndrome says, “You’re not like them.”
I don’t need to be.
Needless to say, the last few months haven’t been exactly quite…or easy. There have been waves I’ve had to navigate inside and quite a few uncomfortable mirrors Life asked me to look in as I charted new waters. There have been tests, both internal and external, that have asked me to dig my heels in about what I believe to be true about myself, life, love, and success.
There is a song by Anna Graves I shared on my social media this week that asks, “Am I always gonna be an enemy of mine?”
The day I posted the video, I had felt those words deeper than the first 100x times I listened to the song.
And I sat with it all a while.
Given what I just told you, I found myself asking internally- Am I?
I gave myself space to answer the question through practiced inner dialogue - is that what you want for yourself? Do you want to be your own enemy? Has that worked out for you yet? What would you tell the kids? They’re watching. Is that how you want to use this one precious life?
But this work that I have been doing for years is a representation of the promise I made to myself during a much different time in my life - that NO - no …. no I wouldn’t always be my own worst enemy. That I would start treating myself like someone that I want to see win, because that’s what I want for people that I love. That I would honor and respect myself and meet myself in the tender places - even when they’re hard. That I wouldn’t run from LIFE, the path intended for me, - and more importantly - I would never again run from myself.
To me, that is what practicing self-love sounds and feels like. It’s not always pretty. It’s sometimes quite messy. But as long as it’s honest…and as long as we lean in…with compassion, understanding, curiosity, and devotion - we can meet ourselves anywhere.
Self-love isn’t about becoming someone worthy of loving, but learning how to love the person you already are. To me, self-love is taking everything we know to be true about LOVE and being in relationship with somebody - and engaging in that dialogue within ourselves.
It’s meeting my own inner child the same way I comfort my kids when they’re scared. It’s not being afraid of the hard answers because to love someone is to know them - to choose them - to lean in, learn, and accept them in all the ways.
It’s staying in the discomfort when staying is hard - and being there without judgment, criticism, or shame. Just space, love, and acceptance for what IS. It’s knowing that the labor is always fruitful. That ripe fruit takes patience - and high branches are only a reflection of deep roots.
As I wait for the approval of the new book ME SHAPED LOVE, I feel … weird. lol. But here. Very, very here.
The word Selah has been appearing for me recently. First, as I was flipping through Glennon Doyle’s book Untamed, then again on the Bible app as a verse of the day, and again a few days later on someone’s Facebook post.
So, I’ll leave you with that today.
If you want a sneak peek of the book before it drops, check out meshapedlove.com.
