Last night I had a dream about a bunch of trash cans.... the ones without lids were $50 cheaper than the one with them. Â I woke up thinking how that is such a metaphor for life. We pay a much higher price for for keeping secrets than letting them breathe. Â Of course it's not a monetary price, it's and emotional price. But I am aÂ huge believer that money is a representation of our insides.
I always thought that if I told people the truth about myself, that the price would be awful, and sometimes it is. Sometimes the immediate reaction I get is so unbearable at Â first because of the actually incident, but secondly, how it brings up my past and how I was attacked by my family because of their own inadequacies.
That last statement is the reality though. If it's hysterical its' historical. Because really if someone does not have the tools to handle my being a person that's really reflection of them not me. Â But, when your a kid you internalize it and twist it.
Becuase the reality is, yes maybe it might hurt in the moment, but in the end the reward of freedom is priceless.
My career is taking off again and I'm having so many feelings. Â I have so much goodness going on. I'm reminded of how hard it was the first go around. I had goodness but I was so young I didn't have any way to take care of myself. I fed into the darkness. I let it take me down. Â The craziest part is that the goodness far outweighed the bad. But because I still had the darkness in me it won over.
This time is so different. I'm learning how to show up for life and really be myself. I've always always wanted to live my life a certain way. I have always been really honest. But people would say, "Sue we're not all like you!" and I would hide in shame. Mind you, I was never asking anyone to be like me. And, the other thing is they all wanted to be around me, my fun and cuteness and love, but they wanted it on their terms. I would buy into that at the expense of myself and eventually the love was gone and grumpy Sue would emerge.
My Dad always told me that I was too much growing up. Â To much what? To much love? To much honesty? To much joy? To much funny? To much sexy? Imagine telling a kid that?
He also used to tell me that I couldn't lie no matter what. What a mixed message; he was essentially seeing that couldn't lie and asking me to lie about who I was at my core. Â Mixed message or dummy? Â He would love for me to have put a lid on it. Just so that he could feel more comfortable.
I am a performer. I am going toÂ Boston for a few things this weekend. The reason I am going is people are paying me to let it all hang out. So I ask myself? Would I rather let it all air out even if that means some people need to stay with the "lids on group?"Â Yes I'll gladly take the 50 bucks and the freedom and be on my way.