I'm only a couple of years late with this one. Here's part I and part II.
I've recently revisted the idea of "transparency," a concept introduced to me in Bible college. I flip-flopped between loving it, allowing myself to grow through vulnerability, and aboslutely dreading the next time someone would expect to find my heart an open, bleeding sore. I've had some time and greatly different life experiences to marinate the whole thing in, and I've come to the conclusion that being honest about yourself will bring you more opportunities than if you are to keep quiet and shelter your very real life and very real past experiences from others.
I am a part of a mental health awareness group, and on Bell Let's Talk Day we launched a campaign about language. I taped a large sheet of recycled paper up on a wall and talked to students walking past, encouraging them to write down a positive message. The first few words and phrases that began to fill the wall were just as you might expect: hope, love, stay strong, you're beautiful, I believe in you. As more was added, less people stopped. A few students: "what I would have written was already on there. Someone stole mine!" I was smiling and pointing out that it's actually a positive thing if more people are thinking the same things. At least we're all being encouraging and on the same page. Sometimes all it takes is something small, and if everyone can think of those things easily, they should have no problem encouraging and supporting someone who is actually down and out or living with a mental illness. Some were very transparent, writing down their names and their struggles: anxiety, depression, bi-polar. I thanked each and every one who spoke to me and took a marker from my hand and pressed the tip to the wall. Several times I had to stop and add more paper. One student stopped by and took a marker from me, but looked lost in thought. I told him to take as long as he needed, if he was trying to think of something to write. Eventually he asked me what I had written. My contribution: Share your stories with others.
He smiled and asked if I would share mine with him right then. I hadn't exactly prepared for this, but I took a second to think. What parts are worth mentioning? When you're on the spot and the opportunity to share strikes, you don't want to bore anyone. And maybe to me, every single thing is important and shaped me, but what parts are going to be important to someone else? I glossed over the minor dramas and presented my recent life path and changes as a huge learning experience, where I ended up exactly where I felt I needed to be. I may not believe in higher purposes, but I certainly believe I found more of a purpose in my education and relationships now than in the past. He was attentive the whole time, nodding, "norming" by adding looks of surprise where appropriate. "I knew there was something about you. I never would have guessed you've done all that. Can I tell you my story?" And he did. And we were just standing in the hallway, talking about our deepest secrets for no reason other than to share the message that things sometimes work out in funny ways and isn't it interesting how we come out stronger in the end? (His story is amazing, by the way).
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A graduate of my program came to speak to my class recently about her career growth since leaving the college. Many of my classmates asked questions about that process and what challenges she was met with, but a fraction of a sentence she had said much earlier in the hour, seemingly unrelated to the topic, was running around in my head. Her career sounded amazing, yes, but I wanted to talk to this woman about so much more. I'm not usually so charismatic or forward when it comes to talking to people, but I found myself in front of her at the end of the lecture time. "I'm not usually like this. I'm not normally a person who discloses a lot of personal information to someone they just met. But something you said made me want to ask you something." And just like that, I was sitting down with her and telling her so much that was inside of me, stuff I had never said to anyone else before. I learned a lot about her that I never would have guessed. We shared our stories together and exchanged numbers. She told me I could text her and rant if I ever needed to.
I don't know why I felt this deep desire to talk to her, but I'm glad I did. What I'm beginning to take away from these interactions with strangers is that it's deeply cathartic to let your troubles melt away with what I like to call a "third party." They aren't involved in what you're currently going through, and they weren't there when you went through everything else. They're not close enough to you to talk back and give you advice when all you need is a little bit of empathy and a squeeze on the shoulder. It's not that our best friends and significant others and spouses are unable to deliver this to us, but sometimes there's something else we need available in order to truly let go of what's haunting us. It's not about competition, or worrying about whether or not they'll change their opinion of you. These "third parties" simply let us be unabashedly ourselves.
I still feel the same as I did when it comes to having a bunch of friends. I'm not looking for a dozen people that I can dump my feels onto on a weekly basis. I have gained some control over my emotions so they aren't a leaky faucet of struggles and stories. But now when the opportunity to speak or write about my past comes up, I seldom pass it up.
Transparency ain't all bad.
Share your stories.
