Truth-Telling Tuesdays: Stories We Don't Tell

The sun is vibrant today. Nearly too much. It's the kind of day that deceives us, not certain how to dress {the wind is chill, but the light full of warmth}, unsure of our own visions, unclear about focusing on work when play keeps calling us. And yet, I am again brought back to last night, to the stories shared in secrecy and broken from the silence, to the raw truth of it all.

We all have secrets.

Stories we have held to our chests for years, fearful confessions and false smiles given at family gatherings, at school reunions, as we walk down the street. Feral comparisons to the life we could be living. These stories are the frayed stitches, the unraveling threads, the loose strings hanging from our hearts. We know they exist. We recognize their origins. We just never face them, never examine their reflection in the mirror of our hearts.

These are the stories that build our lives.

They are the foundations of our likes, our dislikes. They determine who who we love, who we fuck, who we hate and who we passionately love. They determine {whether we know it or not} the minutia of our lives. Things we might never realize are connected to these stories.

These are the stories of our dreams, our nightmares. These are the secrets that surface in our tears.

The stories, the secrets, the fears; the lies told to our hearts for months/years/decades. They are still here, haunting the backs of our eyelids. They don't go away ... Until we share them. Many campaigns advocate "breaking the silence," "speaking your truth," and all sorts of other fantastic jargon for sharing the secrets. But it isn't that simple, is it? There is a trust required, a vulnerability that leaves even the most solid stone cracked and spilling forth water.

What I am most interested in is cultivating that trust. Creating the space for stones to weep, to break through the shell of our hearts and release the secrets. These stories only keep their power when we hide them in the dark, buried in boxes far beneath the surface. It's time to reclaim that power for our own selves, for our own creativity, for our own making. It's time to be whole.

So let's come together, in a velvet-lined room, filled with high windows and the silver shine of the moon. Let us surround the stones of our heart with safety and crack them open, bit by bit, until the Truth of our experience comes spilling into the loving arms of our sisters. Let us build a temple of our stones, and honor our experiences with offerings of love and light.

Let's remember that we are not alone, because secrets live in each of our hearts.

Let's give these secrets a name. And take back our own names for eternity.