The faith some of my people have in me is stunning. I am about to start the editing process (with a professional) in a matter of weeks on Facedown (the first book I wrote, completing it after more than a decade of writing on it). I am currently editing a book proposal for a second book (while still writing it). That is not enough; I have two friends throwing new book ideas at me to write, and they feel like they might have the same general idea.
I do not believe in coincidences.
I say that to say that Elizabeth Gilbert wrote a book entitled Big Magic about the creative process, and I have read it five times. Five. It has helped me unlock many things about my creative nature and working on a process to nurture it. She shares a theory in the book about muses and the universe floating around ideas and allowing us to grab them, or they will find someone else to birth them. Read the book. It's so good.
This morning, I am wondering if this latest “idea” for a book from friends, which also touched on a very important and deep conversation this week with someone I love, could be an idea looking for someone to birth it.
Hmmm…
I am still fleshing out their ideas, but at their core is the question, ‘What does it mean to have agency over your life?’ To tell yourself (and others), I choose to trust me. I will consider my wants, needs, desires, gifting, etc., as much as I do or have ever considered anyone else’s. I trust that God gave me a heart, brain, soul, and body for a reason. To love, choose, help, or live out x, y, and/or z well, I must first flesh out who I am, my wants and needs, and the desires of my one heart. Yes, that same heart God put in you.
This “philosophy” is complicated for most people. It has been a lifelong struggle for me.
I wrote an essay recently (you can read it here) where I shared that I was born into a family that knew how to love my unique self well but that, as sometimes happens, our family fell apart, and so did my sense of self. That also meant that my emotional security went with it (some other types of security, too, but for now, let’s focus on the emotional piece).
When you take on adult responsibilities at age eight, it doesn’t matter who you are or what skills or gifts you were born with, no child is equipped for that. That level of responsibility in the throes of trauma changes a child. It changed me.
Couple that with the fact that while on my first sabbatical last year, I had to confront the fact that for the first time in thirty-nine years, I was not a W-2 employee. For those keeping score at home, I have been in the workforce since I was thirteen.
You show me an individual who has lived their life personally and professionally in the service of others, no matter what degree of service that is, and I will show you a person who struggles with having proper agency over their life. Most would react defensively if someone pointed this out. I can testify to my defensiveness when it was pointed out in therapy years ago.
It is not for the faint of heart to say that to someone who has built a hyper-independent life. Bless all of those who speak those truths to others. They are the heroes. My therapist is one of those heroes.
Others come to this realization on their own. My friend yesterday did. I am in awe of their self-awareness.
//
Back to my friend’s comment yesterday about agency and what he hears when I talk about my life now…
This is who I am now.
…when he talks to me.
What a thing for someone to say to you - about you.
He sees a person who has taken agency in her life. I am still learning to speak my truth, even when my knees knock. For example, I say no to something extraordinary that I want to be a part of, but a yes would take away from the life I am building now.
Is it easier all of these months later? Yes.
Does it still boggle my mind occasionally when the word no comes out of my mouth? Also, yes.
Choosing yourself and building a life aligned with your heart might sound selfish by the world’s standards. That is certainly what I believed for the majority of my adult life.
The truer answer is that aligning with your own heart is the most unselfish thing you can do because it leads to living a fuller, happier life, allowing you to give more of yourself, not less, giving from a place of happiness rather than from a sense of responsibility.
A shift of this nature does not mean your life has not been good. I have had a great life, and I am immensely grateful for it every day.
It was, though, a life that left me wanting…not completely whole…missing key pieces. I denied what was missing to take care of the mountain of responsibilities that landed at my doorstep and to the ones I said yes to, eyes wide open. Circumstances may have groomed me to be hyper-responsible, but let it be known that I did not shirk from them either.
Before I let that thought go, let me be clear that a lot of good came out of my hyper-responsible nature, and shifting my focus now does not mean I have to deny any of those good things. Also, I am still a responsible human.
//
Freedom is a choice.
I spent a lifetime believing I was free. It wasn’t until therapy that I understood that it was, in many ways, a false freedom. Even as I walked towards true freedom in the months leading up to last summer, I had no concept (how could I?) of what that meant or what it would be like. It took months to process what it meant to be free of relationships and responsibilities that, while excellent in many ways, were killing me in others.
So, we got great at building a life around responsibility. What happens when we walk away from it?
For me, I believe it was as much a directive from God as an act of self-preservation.
Could I have gone on forever? To my last breath? Absolutely. I was built for the long haul.
What would I have given up though?
What damage was I doing to myself and others by denying my unhappiness?
How do you even explain a knowing in your soul that there is more without proof or words to describe it adequately?
How do you explain knowing that you must walk away from the good and the bad of something to experience better? To experience the best?
Way before this transition season, only seven people knew the months and months I spent walking out my decision to change my life. I spent four months praying, meditating, and thinking about it without telling a single soul.
It was finally on a hill overlooking a lake in the heart of Rwanda when I could deny no longer that I had to do it, all the risk to myself, my future, my reputation, my finances - all be damned.
It was the most insane decision of my life, and once I made it, I both cried and threw my head back in maniacal laughter because what else can you do when you are about to nuke your life (at least by the world’s standards)?
As I brought those seven - whose names remain on a sticky note that I look at every day, even now - into my decision, they held my hand through the hardest months of my life.
Back then, I was naive, believing the end would be the beginning.
When I did reach the end, and it was orchestrated so beautifully in a way I could have never imagined (story for another day), I continued to naively believe my transition would be a blip.
Instead, when I walked through that door to freedom, I was met with exhaustion and conflicting emotions about whether I did the right thing and who I am without this title, this person, or this responsibility, and weeks of unearthing began.
I unearthed everything from who I am at my core to my accurate gifting, who my heart loves, and what rhythms and paces help me operate at my best.
What I had thought would take a few months as part of my sabbatical. Took those and a few more. I think the time it takes is individual, but there is no doubt you cannot transition a life on a dime. Especially not when there is an emotional component to it, as there was with mine.
//
This is who I am now.
So, when someone who knows you well and has seen you in multiple seasons sits across from you in a restaurant and says, “How do you feel about your life now?” and when you answer in a rambling monologue, they respond with, “This is who you are now, and you need to write about this because not everyone realizes they have permission to take agency over their one life.”
I lowered my head as their observation reminded me of a conversation, I had with someone earlier, and I had to blink back tears so I could raise my head back up; I whispered under my breath, “I see you, God.”
See, I needed that reassurance that someone I love will be okay. No one recognizes us better than someone with the same traits or who has struggled similarly.
If you are a bit ahead of them, you have the gift and the curse of knowing where they are, what they still have to go through, and how their steps will be both difficult and beautiful.
//
Freedom is a choice.
When I speak of freedom, I don’t mean from a job or a relationship. I mean freedom in your heart/soul/mind/body.
There is freedom, and there is freedom.
I did not understand a year ago. I do now.
Walking out freedom in your life means taking a different kind of responsibility. One where you make being responsible to yourself a priority. One where you say no when you mean no and yes when you mean yes.
Which is a much more honest way to live.
It also means you grieve the nos because, as a recovering workaholic, people-pleaser, and ‘put everything and everyone before me’ sort of person, you say no to things that are no longer good for you but also to some good stuff. You have learned that you want to save your yeses for the best things so that you can be and give your very best to them.
//
And yes, this is a lot.
That is why it takes time to go through a transition season. And it isn’t cut and dry, either. Well into your new season, there are still twinges. For example, a conversation with someone you admire and want to help but have to say no presently due to other yeses. I recommend being vulnerable and telling them how much it pains you to say no. I did that earlier this week, and while I will never be a fan of crying at a public restaurant, I did. My friend was gracious, and all was well between us.
People who genuinely love us want us to be happy.
Like you, I have had too many people willing to sacrifice my happiness so they could be happy - whether they did it actively or through their indifference towards me.
I was a willing participant, and I have had to own that—unpleasant as it was to do so.
The people who truly love us remain, and we suddenly have more space for them and others we will meet who will also genuinely love us.
What happens when you are truly loved, truly known?
You can truly love and know others more, better. It is the damnedest thing.
//
So, is this who I am now?
Yes.
I am still me.
…maybe there is simply more room for some of the best things about me.
It feels like that is what has happened.
In some ways, only time and others can truly answer that.
Either way, it no longer feels like life is happening to me; rather, I am now the chief designer of my life.
Maybe this comes with reaching a certain age, encountering certain circumstances, or any number of variables, but whatever your reason(s) why - in the end, you have one ticket for this rollercoaster ride we call life - and you do have agency over your one life.
I hope you choose/build a life you love every inch of.
I am new to this, and parts are still under construction, but the direction…feels right.
Love,
Heather
Author’s Note: This is a long one. If you made it this far, WOW. Thank you! I hope it is helpful to someone. It was therapeutic to write, so I know it at least helped one person. ;)
Building the confidence to trust one has agency is oh so very hard. So much easier to give that to others and fail to give it to ourselves. My biggest hurdle- still
Love this friend . Love your brave look into letting go of the good and bad to see the better. The sneak peek into what freedom really is. Beautiful writing !