I know, I know. Two posts, so close to each other. What could possibly be happening?
I've had a week. I feel like that is an understatement. I am exhausted, heartbroken, exhilarated and hopeful all at the same time. I'm still trying to process.
Last week, when I came here, I felt like my heart was being wrenched out of my chest, every time I turned into everything going on, I froze and cried. But I kept having this feeling, this feeling that I was sitting on the sidelines of history. This feeling that is there, that good overcomes.
These last few months of the pandemic, I have been taking classes regularly, and one of those classes is "Living an Authentic Life." Authenticity seems to be a theme for me this year. The word is everywhere. "Be true to yourself, and what makes you happy."
Maybe this journey, I have to take alone. See, how is this for crazy:
This week, I decided to tell a story. "Why We March: The Story of the Ohio Protest Movement." I never realized that from my first post, it would take off, with a spirit of its own. I want to tell the story of Ohioans, who are we. I think this will be important to future generations to understand. I'm going to do the only thing I know how to do in these situations, record and write.
But, why must I take this journey alone you say?
See, as I write this, I'm actually crying. I have always vowed that here, in my writing space, I will tell the truth when I won't say it to my friends, or family, when I hide my tears and hurt. So here goes.
I'm hurting because Frank and I broke up yesterday(for the record, I am the dumpee, and I'm okay with acknowledging that) . After a record breaking almost 11 months. I would love to say it was one big thing, but it really wasn't. It was a few tiny things, that added up and built upon each other.
Words that weren't heard, cues that went unacknowledged. And finally, even politics and religious differences.
And it hurts. I opened myself up, and for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to be vulnerable. I showed someone my pains, and my trauma, but also my enthusiasm, the things that give me a spring in my step, and make me want to race to the next destination. I shared my dreams, and bucketlists. My fantasies, and my laughter.
No matter what happens from here, I finally allowed myself that. Because I allowed myself that, I will walk away with my head held high, knowing that I finally put myself out there.
See, Brene Brown says that vulnerability is brave. I have no idea if what I did was bravery. It doesn't' feel like it right now. Brene also says that authenticity is the "daily practice of letting go of who we think we're supposed to be, and embracing who we are."
This is who I am. While my heart breaks, I will throw myself into passionately telling the stories of Ohioans, angry and heartbroken Ohioans who are ready for change, and ready to leave our children a better world.
And I will try to keep faith that someday, if I let someone in, someone will truly accept the complicated beauty that is me, and will accept that with my passion, also comes empathy for a greater world.
