I have a confession to make…
I have a confession to make…I’m sure some of you are sitting closer to your screen eager for some juicy gossip to help you get over the mid-day hump. Instead of satisfying your salacious curiosity, by the end you will likely feel uncomfortable and maybe even a little squirmy.
For years, if we’re being specific….almost 2 decades, I held a very false belief. The belief I am smarter than my then boyfriend, now husband.
In the push of feminism and women’s lib, masculinity is often cast aside. For example, male characters in shows and television are seen as childish, stupid, essentially second class citizens. Saved by the powerful, strong, and controlling women in their lives.
I never thought Justin was stupid or childlike. But, I did feel like I knew better than him, especially about my own life. As a result, I wouldn’t consult him about decisions I needed to make. It didn’t even dawn on me to ask him. Why would I, I reasoned, after all I know best. Full of pride, I thought if I don’t know the answer, then why in the world could he?
I know what some of you are thinking. Well, my husband doesn’t want to help. He doesn’t care about my needs or the passions of my heart.
Unfortunately, you may be right. But, you could also be apart of the problem (told you might squirm).
For those of us who are strong, Type A personalities, we often look like we have it all together. Even buying into the lie that we do have it all together. When you give off the appearance that you know everything and don’t need anything, why would others ask if you need help or assistance?
Have you ever asked someone repeatedly to dinner or a playdate and each time the invitation is left unreciprocated? After a while you just stop asking.
I wonder if this is what happened to Justin. He just stopped asking and offering. Stopped giving honest opinions, offering valid concerns, or helpful suggestions. I wonder.
Over the past year or so, I’ve undergone soul renovations. Layer by layer, I’m removing masks of insecurity, shame, and inadequacy. Layers that kept me from living in my true identity and connecting with those I love in rich, intimate ways. Layers that perpetuated cycles preventing the connection my soul desperately craved and desired.
I’m coming back from my time at She Speaks. I didn’t even want to go. Thinking the cost/benefit wouldn’t equal out. Justin told me he disagreed believing that the conference would be helpful. Reasoning the connections, workshops, and opportunities was worth the cost. To be honest, I didn’t believe him. But, he said it and I trust him. So, I went on his word. And he was right. It wasn’t just the publisher and agent appointments, it wasn’t just the future opportunities that became available, it wasn’t just the amazing workshops and key-note speakers. It was this moment, the moment of realization that he was right.
He’s been right on so many things. This isn’t about him being better than me or smarter than me. It’s about listening. Respecting. Trusting. Being less assuming. Less handling things on my own. More asking questions and having deeper conversations. Even if I don’t get my way or things don’t go according to my plan.
What do you think? Are you willing to put aside your pride and ask for help? This requires the risk of vulnerability. The amazing Brene Brown says, “Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change.”
God designed us to be in relationship. We aren’t designed to be independent-do-everything-all-by-ourselves creations.
Today, ask a friend for help or reach out to someone in need. You will be surprised by the fruit of your vulnerability.
Blessings to you,