I almost died on a kiddie coaster
But then I found my superpowers (Plus! Moms on the Mic Presale!)
» Psst! Colorado peeps: Wanna get straight to the just-for-subscribers presale for Moms on the Mic on Oct 24? Hop over here for all the deets. Use code SPEAK for $20 off your ticket. The first 20 signups get VIP bags, tix go public Sept. 9, and this discount ends Sept. 20. Wheeeee!
» Psst! Psst! Want to listen instead of read? Here ya go:
What is WRONG with me?
I thought, after a kid-friendly roller coaster at Harry Potter World caused my soul to leave my body. I had a full-on brush with death on a “mild” ride that was 30 seconds long and never topped 29 mph. I was mildly hyperventilating, almost crying, and gripping those bars with my life.
As everyone else was gleefully exiting and David was telling me that our front-row-seated 5-year-old never even brought his hands down, it was clear that I was the only one feeling fresh trauma.
What is WRONG with me?
I thought, as I later scoured the internet, trying to find at least one other person who was rocked on the Flight of the Hippogriff at Universal Studios. But all I could find were heaps of reviews saying it was comfortable, smooth, and “over too soon.”
Over too soon??? If that thing were even one second longer, I would’ve had a heart attack!
While I’m mildly exaggerating and hoping you’ve been laughing, there really is a truth to this. My sensitive soul was shaken. And upon our return from Cali, I noticed a theme in my reflections on that summer weekend with our dear friends:
I can’t handle as much as most people can.
As I looked back on ALL the scenarios and compared my life and personal capacities to the humans I just spent three straight days with, I couldn’t help but realize that I can’t…keep…up.
I’m slow.
I’m sensitive.
I always overthink.
I often need “recovering” from simple things like socializing.
These thoughts weighed me down for a while. They made me feel weak, weird, different, and “less than.” They wouldn’t leave me alone.
But then…
Something shifted.
I wish I could pinpoint exactly when this happened, but somewhere in my wallowing, I received THIS crystal clear message from God:
There is nothing wrong with you. Everything that’s different about you is uniquely perfect to who you are. Everything.
Wow.
Just wow.
It’s like the Big Man finally got fed up with all my mental whining and decided to throw me a bone. And even when I was grappling with the word “everything” (Everything?? Really?? Every part of me is perfectly made? Every part has a purpose?), he threw me another bone with a message made of diamonds:
Your weaknesses are your superpowers.
Your differences are your gifts.
Everything’s connected.
Everything.
With that, here’s what I realized:
If I wasn’t so sensitive, I wouldn’t be the writer or mom I am.
If I wasn’t so slow and easily overwhelmed, I wouldn’t notice the things I do. I wouldn’t have the space to process nor the capacity to make connections in the ways that I do.
If I didn’t overthink everything, I wouldn’t see the plethora of perspectives that I do. I wouldn’t be as empathetic.
In other words, our strengths and weaknesses are dependent on each other. They’re basically one and the same.
And, oh, how I love the way Umair Haque sees this:
“Perhaps you are principled, but judgmental. You’re easily hurt, but compassionate. You’re focused, but one-dimensional. You are creative, but a mess. Pragmatic, but boring. Humble, but a pushover. Passionate, but maniacal. You’re greedy, but meticulous. You’re brave, but foolhardy. And so on. Perhaps you recognize aspects of yourself even here.
Strength and weakness aren’t separate. They’re just two aspects of the same things in us. When we try to divide them, that is when we fail at both.
We are principled, so we try to be less judgmental. And now we are not even principled. We are compassionate, but easily hurt, so we try to be harder, but lose our compassion.”
That last sentence gets me every time.
It shows what happens when we try to hide our so-called weaknesses and attempt to keep up, conform, or try to be someone we’re not: “We fail at both.” By losing sight of the beauty in our brokenness, we lose our ability to share our gifts with others.
This reminds me of Kintsugi, a form of Japanese art where broken pieces of pottery are repaired with gold.
“Rather than trying to hide the damage, kintsugi highlights the repair,” writes Vaneetha. “The imperfections are what make it beautiful and valuable. A broken piece that is put back together has more of a story, seems more authentic and real, is stronger and more resilient than something that has stayed pristine.”
I know I just downed a second cup of coffee, but that just made my heart do a cartwheel. It brings everything full circle. It gives me fresh permission to let my flaws fly and work their wild magic. It shows me that yes, indeed, every part of us is perfectly made. Every part of us has a purpose.
This reminds me of another thing. The last thing. Promise. (But SO not the least!)
Back in October, when I hosted the first Moms on the Mic, the first woman to speak was a spontaneous, courageous open mic’er who was also speaking to a group for the very first time.
I will NEVER forget the first thing she did when she got up there:
She cried.
While saying nothing and everything all at once, she put her hands over her eyes and unabashedly, oh-so-vulnerably cried for a good few seconds. And guess what happened while she did that?
The room erupted for her. We applauded her with everything we had.
Had she started her talk polished and like a pristine, unbroken bowl, she wouldn’t have connected with all of us like she did. We wouldn’t have been able to see ourselves in her and want to hug her with the loudest of cheers.
Had she not courageously revealed an emotion that is often seen as a weakness (“But what if I cry?!?!”) or did what everyone is afraid of doing when they get on a mic (“But what if I freeze?!?!), we wouldn’t have been given the permission we had that night to be real…to be human…to be broken…to be beautiful.
Ah!
If you’re in Colorado and inspired by this, I’d LOVE to see you at the next Moms on the Mic. Use code SPEAK for $20 off your ticket AND a VIP goodie bag. The first 20 signups get bags, tix go public Sept. 9, and this discount ends Sept. 20. Wheeeee!
Most importantly:
I hope this letter has inspired you to see certain parts of you in a whole new light. I hope it’s given you a little extra courage to be you. ALL of you.
And as always, if anything sparked for you, I’d love to know. Reply or comment below!
Until next time,
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
—Maya Angelou
I feel encouraged to be who I am and to tell what I want to say. Appreciate sharing this thoughts💗
I love the gift of peace you found with these parts of you. I’ve been flittering in and out of peace and frenzy all week, and this was the perfect invitation to let out a sigh of relief. ❤️