I Owe Money, Not Silence
Debt, shame, and the cost of telling the truth out loud.
I know that my parents are disappointed that I am 20K in debt.
They’re likely very disappointed that I’ve chosen to publicly talk about this debt.
But most of all, I’m sure they are disappointed that I’m describing them as disappointed, instead of loving, supportive, generous, exemplary parents.
The Black Becky Bloomwood
“I have always done the best I could with the tools I’ve had, at every point of my life. And I’m always trying to do better. I’m not necessarily proud of the position I’ve found myself in, but I’m also no longer ashamed.
I also know I’m not alone.”
They’ll likely tell me that I shouldn’t speak for them. Maybe they’ll say “how dare you talk about us on your blog. How dare you make what is private, public.” Maybe they’ll say nothing at all.
I could say a lot about what should be private vs. public.
But as for speaking for other people — I know that I speak for myself, when I say I’m disappointed too.
I talked to my therapist before even entertaining hitting “publish” on this.
I said, “I think these three sentences could kind of blow up my life.”
She raised her eyebrows and kind of smiled.
“Let’s talk about what it means to blow up your life, or burn it all down, next week.”
I thought about a conversation with
, where we talked about how to change your life without burning your whole life down.
I have no desire to burn my life down.
But if I feel like telling the truth might set my life on fire — then what kind of life do I have to begin with?
If the truth could blow my life up — imagine what it’s like to walk around everyday with that unspoken truth inside me.
In the same therapy session I referenced above, I came up with this metaphor. My therapist asked me why I kept saying “so yeah, it’s a lot” every time I finished talking.
“Well, my life is a lot. It’s complicated as hell right now. And I know that. Like, I don’t come here once a week and remember that it’s a lot, and then promptly forget each week. But when we talk about my life and go deep like this, it’s like I’m emptying out my Mary Poppins bag of trauma and shit and putting it all on display and really examining it and then we just sit and stare at it together and like, it is a lot. There is a lot on this table, and it’s a lot to sit here and look at it.”
Silence.
“See, this is why I keep saying it’s a lot. It’s hard to just sit in it.”
It’s excruciating to just sit in it.
And yet, I also leave feeling lighter.
Not lighter as in better. Sometimes lighter, as in freer, or messier, or just seen.
Sometimes, feeling lighter feels like being seen.
Writing about the complex messiness that is my life right now makes me feel a little lighter.
Being open about my debt helps me chip away at the shame. My parents aren’t the only ones disappointed in me. I’m pretty freaking disappointed too.
I am a huge believer that anything we lose by being honest was never ours to begin with.
Everything that I’ve written here has been true for half a year. (And some of it even longer.)
I’ve been carrying around the truth, and I’ve been carrying it well.
Now, it’s splayed across my blog.
Wild Cozy Free is the proverbial table where I empty out my Mary Poppins bag each week.
I’m not laying out everything. This blog is not meant to hold everything.
My therapist can hold more, but even she can’t hold everything.
No one and nothing can be everything to everyone.
And so I’ll keep finding new ways, places, and spaces to lay out the messy truth that is my life, as I continue to unravel.
As I continue to pursue lightness.
I’ll continue to tell the truth. In as many ways as I can.
And if the truth blows my life up,
So be it.'
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Drop It Like It's Hot; Anxiety Edition
I get really in my head and overthink things a lot. I question my worth in the world constantly, because I’m really good at tying my self-worth to external things that I have no control over that won’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
"I guess it's no fun to have a heart when we are living through these days"
There is no playbook for living through what feels like the end of the world.
I’m doing my best. I don’t think it’s enough. I don’t think I’ll consider it ‘enough’ until there are no more babies in cages. But it’s still my best, and I hope that my best gets better every day.
I find it inspiring to read the stories of folks who's truth did blow up their life and it was replaced by something so bright it's changing the world. Glennon Doyle and Martha Beck come to mind.
We must be brave and, yes, we can change a lot without burning down the house.
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