I learned something yesterday. Something I already knew, but seem to forget. I learned that it can be really rewarding to tell a truth. I am not talking about the truth, that elusive, Platonic thing we are all implored to tell when we are little. I am talking about the smaller kind of truth. The littler things. The littler truths that add up to be quite big.
I think many of us are interested in sharing things about ourselves – happy things, hard things. But I also think that many of us don’t really have a ready opportunity to do this. I think we motor through our days indulging only in snippets of conversation with those we encounter and there is rarely time to really look each other in the eye and say meaningful things. I think this is reality. And I also think it is a shame. Because I think we have things to say, truths to tell.
And so. Though it caused me considerable anxiety to do so, an ineffable and illuminating anxiety I still need to examine, I was so genuinely happy I published my words yesterday. Yes, they were raw. Perhaps too raw. But they were very real and very much mine and it struck me during the course of the day as all of your amazing comments rolled in, that it is a huge privilege to be able to come here day after day to write words, and say things. True things. Because, again, we do not always have this chance; to utter things that are true, things that we are thinking about, things that matter. I do not take any of this for granted; that I have this cozy corner to come to, that I have all of you.
And today is another one. Another day. Another chance to tell a truth. And my truth today is another hard one, another one that makes me feel a bit vulnerable, shaky, soft. But I learned yesterday that I should go for it (and maybe we all should?). That I should say what I have to say, tell that story, that truth, and that there will be people, real people, out there to read, to nod, to say something: Me too.
Today’s truth: I had a miscarriage seven years ago today. And it broke my heart.
Earlier this week, I hunkered down at a Starbucks and wrote and wrote about this loss. I’ve written about my miscarriage on this blog – here and here – but this time was different somehow. This time, I really let myself travel back and relive the event. I wrote and wrote and wrote, losing myself, losing the world around me. I hope to share these words with you very soon. But for today, I just wanted to come here and say something I think we all know but too often disregard: It is pure good to tell a truth. And it is pure good to have that truth heard.
Thank you all for making me feel seen, heard, happy, and far less alone. At the end of the day, isn’t this what we all want?
Now it’s your turn. Tell a truth. It can be big or small. Happy or hard. Ugly or beautiful. Be anonymous or attach your name. Tell a truth and I promise to respond.