I’ve been seeing a counselor once a week for a couple of months now. I can’t even remember why I started going. I think I just wanted someone to talk to. To complain to. To listen to my existential questions and not think I was crazy (although admittedly a counselor might be the first person to think you’re crazy).
And it’s been a bit a of a challenge. She gets the family stuff. The addiction and divorce and dysfunctional nature of my childhood. She understands my frustrations sometimes with being a wife or being a mother. But she’s 70 years old and she doesn’t quite get the blogging thing.
Sometimes I feel like I’m consulting at the same time I’m being counseled.
Tell me more about this blogging thing.
So people actually go to conferences for this stuff?
Do they all sit around and talk about blogging? (laughing)
Yes. Yes, they do, I say in my most deadpan voice.
Slowly, over the months, she’s come to understand a little more about this community and about my online friends and what a rollercoaster this life can be. I wouldn’t trade it though. I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be and I think last weekend couldn’t have made that more evident.
This was my crowning achievement. This was my Academy Award. I got to open the Voices of the Year event with a reading of a blog (vlog?) post I did last year.
My emotions ran the gamut. I was proud but afraid to be happy. I felt undeserving. I felt like I had cheated to get there (I didn’t. There isn’t a way to cheat VOTY that I’ve figured out yet). Then I felt okay. It was a video. I would get on stage, read an intro, roll the clip, and walk off.
But they told me they wanted me to do a live reading of the video. The video that was nothing more than improvisation with the camera rolling. I agonized over not only the reading, but the performance. What if nobody laughed? What if nobody cared? What if it was a bad hair day?
Well, miracle of all miracles, I had a good hair day, liked what I was wearing, overcame the extreme nerves to deliver my reading just the way I wanted to.
For a few minutes, I let myself feel like I did okay. That I did a good job. That people laughed because they thought it was funny instead of out of pity. So I sat down backstage listened to the other readers, pulled out my phone, and peeked at Twitter.
And then I had an unexpected reaction. I cried.
Not big ugly tears and I doubt anyone noticed but my eyes welled up with big tears feeling like I had finally justified my blogging existence. Feeling like I had some sort of validation. But that was only the beginning.
Later in the weekend, I ran into a friend who is going through a really emotionally difficult time. We talked and shared some hugs and as her tears welled up, so did mine. But I kept it together.
A few weeks ago, I confessed to my counselor that I felt like I had a huge wall of emotion trapped inside that i just couldn’t let out. I used to blame it on the medication which, initially at least, dulls your emotions. It keeps you from feeling too much but then sometimes I think we forget how to feel. But this was more than that.
I’ve gotten so good about walling up my emotions. I did it in my childhood as more of a defense mechanism. I’ve done it in my marriage for some of the same reasons. But the wall gets bigger and stronger and then you forget how to break it down.
My counselor and I talked about how I feel self-conscious about my emotions and how I don’t want to be around anyone when the floodgates open. That perhaps I unconsciously perceive it as a sign of weakness. She suggested that I take a drive, maybe commune with nature, and just try to let it all out, however it wants to come out.
Sounded like a good idea at the time and then it seemed silly and I was fine. The emotions had receded and life was back to normal.
Then I went to BlogHer and the wall started to crack but I still kept it together, until the flight home.
After a pretty eventful Sunday spent on my own in the lovely city of Chicago (stories that will definitely emerge later), I found myself sitting at the airport waiting for my 8pm flight. I boarded without issue and decided that I was going to treat myself to a glass of wine on the plane.
I voluntarily squished in a middle seat between a tall guy and an average woman. He read a book the entire time (like one on paper, with binding). She fiddled with everything known to man. It was a snack, her dinner, another snack, some gum, a drink. I quietly read my Kindle and put up a wall.
As we were nearing Baltimore, the captain asked that the flight attendants clean up the cabin a little early as he was expecting some turbulence. Ah, turbulence. Not my friend. I was glad at that point that I had had some wine to calm my nerves. One seatmate was still reading and the fidgety girl had decided to go to sleep.
Then the turbulence hit. It scares me. I think of crashing and dying. I think of never seeing my family again. I gripped the armrests as if they would somehow keep me stable. He read, she slept. We bounced up and down. I gasped, Oh my God, and everyone else carried on with their business.
The tears welled up in my eyes again and this time they kept coming. They dripped down my face even as I told myself to keep it together.
I wasn’t crying for fear of the flight. I was finally having my moment where the wall came down. Even I saw the humor in it.
Oh great, NOW I have my breakthrough? While I’m bouncing up and down on an airplane in the middle of strangers?
I kept it together. I got my bags, I got my car, and I headed home.
Normally preferring silence in the car, I felt the need to blast music. The words to the songs cracked the wall even further and in the safety and solitude of my car, the floodgates opened. I cried tears for the whole of the weekend. I cried for joy and for suicide and for cancer. I cried for my baby boy and for my husband. I cried for me.
And on the way home, the skies opened up. The source of the turbulence finally rained down in a dramatic way. The thunder and lightning was almost shocking and lit up the earth. As I pulled into the driveway, I smiled at the joy of being home and let my tears blend in with the rain. The wall is down for now and I just might keep it that way.
83 comments
Hugs to you. You may just have written a VOTY post for next year! This was beautiful and brilliant and I hope some day you’re able to feel just as deserving as you really are.
Maybe on my deathbed… thank you for reading and for your kind words.
Absolutely beautiful – and you DID kill it at VOTY. xoxo
Thanks, friend 🙂
Love this. For some reason I keep everything “together” when anyone is around and then the dam usually breaks late at night when I’m exhausted and everyone else is in bed. Sometimes I wish my hubs would wake up and help me, I don’t know what I think he would/should do, and sometimes I just know that even though I hate the feeling while it’s happening, after I’m done, in the morning I will feel better. I will feel like I can deal with whatever is bothering me.
It’s good for that dam to break. Even if it’s when you’re alone. Sometimes I prefer it that way but sometimes it’s nice just when someone hugs you. I always tell my husband he doesn’t have to do anything. It helps him because men always feel like they have to fix what’s broken. Sometimes we’re just emotional and there isn’t always a fix.
yeah, that’s true. Most of the time my hubs wants to know what’s wrong and wants/needs to try to talk me out of my funk. But sometimes I just simply need to cry, without having to explain my crazy female emotions. 🙂
I love this so much. Good for you letting it come right when it needed to. I am learning that part of the whole process is not rushing things. That is so hard for me. I love that it rained. Perfect.
Thanks, Andrea. I don’t rush things. I just try to push them aside and ignore them. Yeah. Eventually it catches up to you, sometimes with a vengeance.
Amazing post in every way. We have a lot in common, you and I…I know a lot about walls, too. And why they get built up. By the way, that post of yours, the one you read, is still one of my favorites to this day. Next time I see you, don’t be surprised if I hug you.-Ashley
I’ve fully embraced the fact that the blogging community has made me a hugger. So let’s definitely hug. And then we’ll laugh and maybe even cry if we’re feeling daring.
This one may be better than last year’s and I refer to that one all the time. Congratulations on all of your achievements. You really are someone that all of us bloggers look to for inspiration.
Wow, thanks. With great blogging comes great responsibility I guess 😉
Oh my friend! Love, hugs, light and all everything else that is good. I can’t wait to see you and hug you next month. Proud of you.
Thank you SO MUCH, Erin. Looking forward to our girls’ weekend, um, I mean, conference 🙂
Wow, such a powerful post…I felt as though I were there with you on that airplane. You are a wonderful writer, Fadra! Keep that wall down and see what happens.
Thank you, Nancy. It’s amazing these protective mechanisms we have. It helps to know that when my wall is down, people are right there beside me.
The counseling sessions are helping, then? Sometimes we just need to put our emotions out there to feel them, even if it is days or weeks later, and at inopportune moments. I am so glad that you were able to do this, and a good reminder for myself, builder of my own strong brand of walls.
You looked beautiful at VOTY! It was a GREAT hair day!
Thank you, Andrea! I don’t often think the counseling sessions are helping but usually at some point during the week, some random gem I heard in the last session rears its head. I think the trick is to go with the moments instead of trying to avoid them.
May all days be good hair days!
Oh hon. Everything and anything and you. I don’t even know what to say. But I love you, and damn girl, your hair really did look amazing. xoxo
It’s nice to know good hair still counts for something in this world 🙂
xoxo back
And yes, GOOD HAIR DAY indeed!! 😀
PS: I demand a disclosure as per the FTC that this post might not be good to read while wearing mascara!
Love you girl. Sad I missed your performance but glad the wall came down. Going through something similar and trying to keep to myself because who needs the mushy stuff, right? Sending hugs!!!!!
oxoxox
I’ll tell you who needs the mushy stuff. WE do. Deep down in our soul. Your blog is a good place to start. xo
Awww! Thanks, babe! I’m always shocked to hear fabu people like you read me. I’m considering adding a “this shit will make you cry” category. Lord knows I got enough material…lol
Beautiful and CONGRATULATIONS. You deserved every bit of that award, and then some.
Thank you, Holly!!
Congratulations for the presentation! And thank you for the rest of the post. I needed that.
Aw, big bro. I miss you. Trying to do some more travel writing so maybe I can score a trip to China. XOXO
Hugs, and love, and congratulations. You are a great writer, and it must have been such an incredible moment being up on that stage… and afterwards, so much to take in… xoxo
I didn’t really think it would affect me the way that it did. But I’m glad that it did for everything that I wrote and more. THANK YOU!
You rocked it up there, and I was so happy to meet you and see you on stage; it was a privilege. You deserve every bit of it, and I look forward to more! Big hugs. You are fantastic.
Thank you so much for the hugs and more!
Oh my goodness how I relate to this! Not in the whole reading VOTY thing…I’ve done nothing so awesome lately. But in the building of the wall to keep the emotions from showing. I have such a problem with crying, especially in front of people. Stoic to the max. I’m glad you found, by accident I guess, a time to let it out. I hope I can too.
Sarah – we could be members of the Stoic Society. I fill the uncomfortable spaces with laughter and (sometimes) awkward humor. Sometimes I have to remind myself to shut up, be real, and live in the moment. It’s what I did at BlogHer and I think it’s why it’s carrying through to my “real” life.
This was beautiful. I know it is hard to allow your heart to be vulnerable, and the wall, it is a familiar item. As it comes down floods happen but they subside and a clearer venture will be before you. Allowing others to walk beside you will enrich your life and there’s. I love you, Mom(mie)
I guess there’s a fine line between expressing your emotions and controlling them. I’m always walking it but sometimes it feels nice to just let go. And know there are people beside me.
What a lovely post — really beautiful!
Thank you, Darcy. Straight from my soul.
Good for you! I have a hard time allowing myself to feel my emotions for fear of the wall coming down too… Not sure I’m ready to cry with strangers yet, but I’ll think about it next time the turbulence hits – either real or metaphorical.
Well, if I had my way, I certainly wouldn’t have CHOSEN that moment. And luckily I didn’t really let loose until I was alone in the car and then it was extremely cathartic.
You know I’m not so good with emotions either, but I love you.
As long as you feel them, that’s all that matters. Even if it’s only Teddy that sees them 🙂
I’m happy for you, Fadra. It’s interesting, to hear you say that you’ve had this wall. You’re someone I look at in a way that lets me say, look how strong she is. Ugh. I hate that girl. 😉 But seriously, you seem to be the person everyone turns to when they need a calm and soothing, friendly face, and so I’m glad you were able to turn around and kind of be that for yourself, and connect with yourself in the same way you let everyone else connect with you. Does that even make sense? Bah – whatever. I think you get me. I hope so, anyway. I’m glad you had a great VOTY experience. I hope you carry it with you always.
That totally makes sense and sometimes I wonder if I’m being the “real” me. I think I’m just a complex person and I accept that. I love to be strong and tough but I also can be very sensitive and I kind of like that too.
As do I. Both sides of you. All sides of you. 😉
I think this is my favorite post you have ever written.
Thanks, Ilina. Means a lot.
Something tells me when you crack you still manage to keep everything together. That is a pretty admirable quality. You are obviously a rock to a lot of people – your family and friends are pretty damn lucky 🙂
What a super amazing and nice thing to say. I’ve definitely had my moments where I’m losing it but I usually know enough to reach out to someone to let them know I am. And if I always kept everything together, I would have much to write about on the blog 😉
Oh my goodness. The many ways I can identify with you in this post. It is a beautiful thing that you shared this with us.
Thanks for reading, Jennifer. I’m really glad that it’s touched so many people.
I feel you. I. FEEL. YOU. We put up a wall as parents, because the kids don’t need to see or feel what we’re going through, to shield them. We put up this wall professionally, because it isn’t something our colleagues and clients need to see. Sometimes we put up this wall with our significant others, because they travel too much, or work a lot, and the limited amount of time we get with them we’d rather be happy family time, and not Mom-is-miserable-we-need-to-talk time. And inevitably it comes crashing down around us, this built up wall that can’t hold the weight of our worlds. I know this, I’ve lived this first hand. While I was grateful for the wall, I am grateful for seeing the other side now, too.
How many times have we heard THICK SKIN in this business? We’re always trying to be tougher and stronger for everyone but sometimes we need a reminder that we can still be soft and squishy on the inside.
Alright that was simply beautiful.
Thank you, Sommer. These are emotional times!
ahhh so lovely. I thought you did a wonderful job. You were jerry-seinfeld-hilarious. Also? It was just fantastic to meet you!!! And the impromptu counseling session at the reception. =)
I’m so glad we got to meet up as well. It was the real connections with real people that made the weekend so amazing for me.
Oh, woman. I want to hug you so bad right now. Reading this reminded me of my own challenges the past few years. Dealing with divorce, coming to terms with depression and feeling like life has dealt me a load of crap. I am glad you had your breakthrough. Even if it was on a plane with a dude reading a real book and an average woman getting her crush on with every snack known to man. You are truly amazing.
I’ll take the hug but know that you made me laugh out loud (not an easy feat) that crush comment. People are weird on planes. I guess I fit the mold too. I’ve lived a relatively simple life inside a complex brain. Sometimes they don’t always go together and sometimes it all works out.
I have found some of the best people watching in airports and coffee shops. I tend to hate sitting in the middle seat and your words about the people made me laugh. I will be visiting your blog more often, as you bring a much needed realness to a world full of internet bullshiters!
I think you have your next VOTY post! You had me engaged, nodding my head in understanding (which was refreshing…because I’ve been here…) and wanting to give you a big hug the whole time. Totally dig you even more than I did before. Thanks for sharing your story.
Thank you, Nicole. This was really a post I needed to write for me but I have to say that it makes me feel emotional all over again to know it resonated with so many people. I’ll take a hug next time I see you 🙂
You were wonderful at the VOTY reading, BTW. Good for you.
Thank you!!
Woo hoo!!
Thanks, I think 🙂
You DID kill it at VOTY 🙂 I so enjoyed your post and the delivery of it!
Thanks, Elizabeth!
I was at BlogHer but I wasn’t able to see the VOTY’s because I bought a party/expo pass. I can’t imagine you or anyone else who was nominated doing a superb job.
There was something about this post that really spoke to me… that brought things to light that I hadn’t really thought about until now. The wall. In some respects I think that we all have a wall up but then there are others (like yourself and me) that have much bigger, stronger walls that don’t come down that often.
Mine is firmly in place and I know that it is the cause of many of the issues in my life. Maybe some day it will crumble.
Ah, the wall. It will only crumble if we want it too. For me, I could just feel that I needed a good cleansing cry and I just couldn’t make it happen. The tears just wouldn’t come and so the emotions manifest themselves in other ways. When they finally came, I knew I needed to just let it out and I’m glad I did. It’s been an interesting week.
This is the third thing this morning that has made me cry! And I love it. There’s something special about the floodgates opening. It just feels so good to let it all out sometimes. As a parent I often don’t feel like i have the luxury, since me crying totally freaks my kids out. 🙂
Kids do NOT like to see their moms cry. But also my son and I have cried together. I like at least him knowing that emotions are okay. But the heavy duty stuff I wait for. I just need to learn to not wait so long.
Fantastic breakthrough Fadra, give those emotions words!
Trying… it’s easier to write fluffy, humorous stuff about products 😉
You know, you had a truly emotional, adrenaline pumping experience all weekend, especially “acting” out your VOTY and going first. And Ilana is right. You DID rock it! I love that the wall came down. And the way you wrote this is just lovely… xo
Thank you, Elaine. It was definitely a rollercoaster and I didn’t realize the impact before or after until, obviously, a little turbulence came my way. I wonder what will happen on my next flight…
WOW! now that was some serious sharing. I think most of us have a wall, we compartmentalize all those emotions. I know I do. And you know what, there is nothing better than a great cry. I always feel better after I let it all out. Thanks for sharing your life, your vulnerabilities and your tears!
I did feel better but it wasn’t the end. I probably cried big tears at least 3 more times over the week before I wrote this post. I didn’t feel out of control. I actually felt more in touch and I kinda like it.
I’m finally working through my BlogHer cards and have finally added you to my netvibes (meant to do it even before BH). 🙂
And … wow – we are more alike than I realised. I loved this post.
You’re more ahead than me. The cards are still in a pile. Maybe next week? But I’m glad you stopped by. I need to return the favor 🙂
Beautiful post, Fadra…just gorgeous.
What a metaphor.
And I cry in the car all the time too.:)