“Shit. They are going to see it,” I thought. For two whole days I had kept it together. In fact, I was the only one who had at that point. Emotions had been building up, connections had been formed, healing had begun, and I felt like I actually began to TRUST these people I barely knew. They were on a fast track to my heart, and, basically, I was screwed. I was screwed because they were going to, and did, see it.
They saw my ugly crying face.
I was taking a continuing education class that proved to be much more. It was a group of eight women whose connection would prove to be powerful and transformative. Through tears, snot, trying to formulate words that were hard to put together through quivering lips, and allowing myself to be seen with my blotchy red face and all, I shared things that I am pretty sure I knew I had deep within me but never fully acknowledged. And it felt GOOD to release that. There was no embarrassment or shame, there was only love and acceptance.
With all of my usual defenses washed away, it was then that I realized …