About a month ago now, I had one of the most painfully awkward sessions with my life coach to date.  I could have thought of a million things to do besides chat with her for fifty minutes.  I was in such a terrible funk - the LAST thing I wanted to do was to TALK.

I don't know if any of you can relate to this - but when I'm feeling not just down but in the dumps - it is incredibly difficult for me to reach out.  Tillamook chocolate chip ice cream and my bed covers sound much more appealing.

However - this is quite the opposite of what I "preach" to the ladies that come along side me via support groups or at speaking events.  This journey of healing from betrayal has shown me that it's being fully known (intimacy) with those that I feel safe with that will actually help me move through the down-dumps with grace; not isolating under the covers with a half-gallon of ice cream. {Although seriously?!  That sounds really nice in the moment!  Can we call that some self-care or what?!  All kidding aside - the problem is - after the ice cream is downed - and I come out from under the covers - I've done nothing to move through the feelings.  I'm back at square one.}

And yet, the default setting is broken and my flesh will always want to hide and isolate more than the desire to reach out, connect and share it like it is.  Yes, I point to Adam and Eve for part of the explanation - because what did they do in the Garden of Eden?  They hid.

There is a residual level of this desire to hide in all of us.

But why else might it be so hard for me to reach out when I'm in the spiral?  A couple of other reasons come to mind -The fear of not being loved or accepted if I'm not happy.  Not sure when or where this fear developed but in a world where we put on a mask when we walk out the door - it's no surprise that I fear I won't be accepted if I'm down.

Lack of control.  I talk to so many women that say they have control issues.  Me too!  It's just I like to put a different spin on it - I'm a control enthusiast!  Being down and sharing it with others - the ugly cry, the darkness, the hopelessness - it's pretty out of control.  And that's not a comfortable place for me.

The fear that if I actually allow myself to go there - I'll stay there forever.  Oftentimes I believe if I can just stay on the edge of a complete melt-down, I'm doing myself a favor.  Because if I do melt - there is no turning back and who knows HOW long it will take to climb back out of the hole.  Taps into the powerlessness mentioned above.

The list goes on and on - the point is - there are some real reasons that I move toward complete isolation and withdrawal when I'm starting to spiral.

Back to my session with my life coach - I realized I'd never truly allowed anyone (except Jason) to see me the way I presented to her that Thursday afternoon in April.  I was convinced by the end of the session that she'd fire me.  And if she didn't fire me on the spot - certainly when we met again - she'd give me the axe.

But girls - two weeks later when our next session came around - she started our session by saying this - "I have more admiration and respect for you because of how you came onto the call and sat with me on the call two weeks ago."

I wanted to fall out of my chair (but thankfully was firmly planted in it).  She didn't fire me.  In fact, she did quite the opposite.  She loved me even more.

The TRUTH is - when we show our brokenness to others - they love us more.  When we confess our shortcomings, when we share our fears, when we look up with tears in our eyes and say - I'm a mess - that's when love comes a-pouring in.

I KNOW this because I see it happen in my groups, I've seen it happen with Jason, and I experienced this big time one month ago with Dale.

AND... I also know, that there will probably never be a day when this comes easy.

So I'm closing with this - I'm begging you to show up by being you.  If you are down, say it.  If you feel hopeless - express it.  If you feel angry - get it out.  Let's all commit to bringing our full selves to the table.  Not what we think others want to see, but how we actually feel.  Right now.  Today.  And every day.

Amen.