Yesterday, I met a good friend for a run. It’s been a warmer week for the Midwest in the middle of winter, so we decided to take advantage of it and hit the trail. I checked the weather app on my phone and it said the outdoor temperature was 38 degrees Fahrenheit. To me, that’s still cold, but my “rule” is I don’t run outdoors when it’s below freezing. I donned my thermal running tights, my ear warmer headband thingy, a long sleeve running top, light jacket, and mittens.
The cold wasn’t going to keep me indoors. Not today.
When my friend saw me, she said, “Oh, is it cold out? I thought it was warm today. I brought shorts.”
Huh? How could any human being think running shorts would be appropriate for 38 degrees?
Nonetheless, off we went, looking one big mismatched duo on the trail with very different attire choices. At first, I was comfortable. At Mile 1, I could feel my body warming up. At Mile 2, the mittens came off. By Mile 3, I was in a full body sweat and contemplating an early turnaround for fear of heat stroke.
Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would wish for a pair of running shorts in 38 degrees. But there I was, the sunny SoCal native shedding layers on what was turning out to feel like a beautiful day in the sunshine.
We pressed on and turned around at Mile 4 to complete our desired 8 miles by the time we got back to our cars, chatting and hashing out our complicated life situations as we went. I was stuck carrying mittens and unneeded layers, but it was worth it.
Shedding the layers felt so good. I could breathe, cool off, and absorb the beautiful sunshine without all those layers to “protect” me from the perceived, yet surprisingly mild, elements.
When we were done running my friend gave me a Christmas gift. Inside the cute mug she gave me were some Dove chocolates, the ones with inspirational quotes in them. When I got home, I opened one up and the quote said “Be fearlessly authentic.”
What does being authentic mean exactly? To me, it means not hiding behind an exterior you think everyone wants to see. It means being real about who you are, owning the good and the bad parts, and (ideally) doing that without fear of what others might think. This is me, and I’m still working some s#!t out. That sort of vibe.
You could say it’s living without all those stupid extra layers.
I’ve felt conflicted lately when it comes to my writing because I feel like some weeks come across as negative and down, like I’m constantly fighting the same battles and struggling to keep my head afloat with positivity.
The more I think about it, the more I realize I still live in fear, and that upsets me.
I fear rejection by being authentic and real about my past in the book. I feel like I’m still messed up, so why would people want to bother with all of that mess?
Not only that, I realized something else: I’m afraid to feel happy sometimes. There’s a lingering feeling of faulty self-preservation that says, “Don’t you dare allow yourself to be happy. Don’t get used to this. It’s only a matter of time before it all falls apart again because you’re such a wreck. Keep those barriers in play so you won’t get hurt.”
As 2019 comes to an end, I recognize that I have felt a joy and happiness this year that I haven’t felt in a long time. I’ve grown a lot and come to terms with a lot about myself and my circumstances. I’ve faced (and continue to face) a lot of demons. I’ve moved on with my life. I bought a house. I published a book. I shared my story. I met someone. I felt hope because I saw myself coming out of some dark places and growing into a woman I am proud to become.
I freed myself of unnecessary layers this year, and it felt amazing! Being stripped down and unhidden for the first time in my very private life was excruciating as I waited for the reactions of those around me, especially right after the book came out. But others’ reactions didn’t really matter in the end. It was the relief of authenticity that felt the best. No more hiding behind the multi-layered I’ve-Got-It-Together act or shrouding myself in a thick coat of privacy and secrecy. None of those protective layers were necessary except to appease my own insecurities.
Over-layering looks silly when you’re on a run on a nice day. In the same way, people know when you’re not being authentic. Maybe they’re distracted by those fake qualities you’re pretending to have mastered at first. But given time, they’ll figure it out. For me, the layers wound up being too heavy and hot. They’re suffocating until they’re shed because I can absorb the good warmth around me I’d been missing before. When we were running yesterday, I felt a million times better when the layers came off, pressing forward one step at a time.
I don’t have to have it all together or even pretend to have it all together. Positive progress has happened to me in 2019 because I stripped down the overbearing layers. I see that now. I feel better because of it just like I did yesterday during the run. That momentum is going to take me into 2020, and I’m thankful for another year of life to grow and continue to share my journey alongside others around me in a meaningful way.
Embracing the typos till next week,
Mel