My Relationship to My Truth

I have many stories inside that are dying to get out! When the Truth inside me got wind that she finally could speak, for all the world to hear, she didn’t know where to start.

Ends up that this non-truthtelling had become my expertise. I am 54 years old now, and that poor soul inside is bursting to be heard. I have asked her to be silent, quiet, to wait for all my life. We learned early on that what I had to say was…unacceptable, wrong, heresy, career-limiting, impossible, crazy, delusional, ungrounded, woo woo…

My dear Truth has been called so many names throughout these years. She is ashamed to show her face to the world. She is hurt, ashamed, bewildered, confused, terrified to be seen in public. I feel for her, I really do. I reassure her and I let her know that they are wrong. I tell her everything will be OK. I tell her that someday, someday she will be able to come out and play again. Then I try to explain that today is not the day, not quite yet…that things are still a little too dangerous out there for her to come out and be in the open for all to see, all to hear.

I explain that I love her but just want to keep her safe. Safe from the ridicule, from the rejection, the humiliation, the harm that others can inflict. I explain that we still have to keep cover, pretend a while longer. We still need to fool the others…and how easy it is to fool them. We will just keep cover for a while longer…say what they want us to say, lie and tell them that we believe what they believe, and act as if we do.

She seems hurt again, this Truth inside me. She tries to be patient. She tries to understand and believe me, but she is starting to know that these are promises that will not be kept. She knows it, and I know it, too. We silently know, together, that these are the lies we keep…we are both trying to love each other.

We offer support to each other when the other is feeling down and disappointed. We try. We do love each other, and somehow we know that this silly game will all end some day. We dream together, the Truth and I. We write long love letters to each other, while journalling, of the life we will have together, out there in the real world: the places we will go, the things we will do together, the fun we will have. We have big dreams, extraordinary dreams—and there is so much we want to do together!

A true love story is ours. You could not find two people more in love that these two parts inside this person. These two parts, the Truth inside and the part that knows this crazy, mixed-up world, love each other. One part is doing her very best to protect this tender loving part from the cruelties of the world, and the other part is trying her hardest to save her soul. They are both in their own ways trying so very hard all the time. They both are loving, in their own ways.

It is the third part that concerns me the most. The part that is tired of the war…of the late-night disappointments, of the ongoing casualties on both sides. The part that is watching the senseless war and struggle, the suffering and continual conflict between these two parts. The part that is becoming more and more aware that, as long as there are these two opposing parts with two opposing interests, there will be war.

This third part watches with the saddest heart. It asks, “When will they learn that this is a losing battle? As long as these two parts are in opposition, the battle will continue…as it has for thousands of years. And as long as there is war, there will be casualties, there will be suffering. When will they learn the war will continue as long as these two parts are in opposition? When will they learn they are one and come together, offering their expertise and skill to a greater whole…a unified one?”

And this part waits. Waits for the two sides to finally figure it out. The modus operandi is flawed. A new way of relating must be envisioned.

And it prays. Dear God, help these two to love one another. Help them to realize that together they can create something beautiful…but apart , they can only create war. This part prays for that day. And so do I.

Thank you for listening to my story—the story of my internal life. I feel the healing that awareness can bring.