Telling the Truth?
When I was growing up, telling the truth was all about not lying and simultaneously doing everything I could to stay out of trouble.
For example: Did you finish your homework yet?
- Yes.
- No, but I would have if she hadn’t interrupted me so often!
- Almost…. (last resort; usually a nonstarter)
Or how about this: Did you hit your sister first?
- Yes, but she was being really mean to me.
- No! She hit me first!!!
- I don’t remember…. (sometimes a weak attempt at a cover-up; sometimes the sad and sorry truth)
I wish I could say truthfully, “Today I’m beyond fudging, fogging or minimizing the truth to stay out of trouble because I don’t care what people think about me!” It’s easy to proclaim boldly that I don’t care what people think about me. But in the moment of truth, I care deeply. So deeply that direct, honest response takes a toll on me.
Nonetheless, I’m deeply committed to discovering and telling the truth about myself. Why? Because things that happened and still happen to and in me matter, then and now. In fact, they matter to all of us who inhabit this world God loves so much–infants, children, young people and adults.
There’s no way to tell this kind of truth without referring to people whose lives have intersected and influenced my life—for good and for ill. My goal, however, isn’t to focus on them and what they did or failed to do in relation to me. Nor am I interested in having the so-called “last word” about particular incidents and conversations that shaped me.
Instead, this is what telling the truth means for me in this blog:
• Bearing witness to things I would rather not talk about–not because they’re shameful, but because they’re painful.
• Focusing on myself, especially my internal world; telling the truth about myself as I’m coming to understand that truth today.
• Exercising compassion toward others just as I would like others to do in relation to me; they have their pasts, just as I have mine.
• Exercising compassion toward myself, taking seriously the events and contexts of my life and the way they shaped me for good and for ill.
• Maintaining personal privacy when it comes to details about particular events. This is not a tell-all blog or an invitation to voyeurism at my expense or the expense of anyone else.
• Being clear about things that were and are totally unacceptable—no matter when, why, how, by whom or to whom they happen.
• Making use of personal journals, letters, conversation notes and other materials I’ve kept over the years as a way of grounding my writing in more than my memories.
• Taking seriously formative memories that seared their way into my body and spirit—even though I may not have concrete material to ground them.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 30 Nov 2013
How brave of you, dear Elouise, to speak of these things. I know you’re not feeling brave, but, by my definition, you are. You are forging ahead in very dangerous territory. The reasons don’t matter (so the genuineness or nobility of your motives is never a valid question) ; nor do the reasons determine how brave you are. The simple fact of willfully entering territory that you know is dangerous, territory that you cannot always control, makes you brave. So we can put your first check in the plus column, the first, I’m sure, of many to come. And I really appreciate your sharing your story with me. I know that anyone on the internet can read it but I still feel as though you are sharing it with me, personally. Thank you and God bless you as you proceed.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Marilyn, Thanks for this eloquent comment! I appreciate your words.
LikeLiked by 2 people
love transparency! you are brave!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much! happy to see you’re following the blog, and love your crazyloveparents name!
Elouise
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks!!!! 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
You’re welcome!
LikeLiked by 2 people
I love this. Your willingness to step out and share your truth is not only bold and courageous, but also is what draws me to you. I can relate and have walked my own journey and still do. It is a never ending process and God continues to refine me. Thank you for sharing.
LikeLiked by 2 people
You’re welcome. Thanks for your lovely comment and for taking time to visit and read! I’m happy to meet you.
Elouise
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you. I suppose this is what I meant to do in my blog. But I am glad you are doing it for yourself. And in that journey, you can help others.
Lord Beari of Bow directed me to you. I look forward to reading more.
…Pamela
LikeLiked by 2 people
You’re welcome, Pamela. I’m so happy you found your way here via Brian! He’s one of a kind. As I’m sure you are, too. Thanks for the follow, and for this comment.
Elouise
LikeLiked by 1 person
..such a solid piece; it takes a lot of courage to be open and honest, you got it all.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you for this kind comment. The older I get the more courage I have…I think! Each layer takes courage, some more than others. Yet writing it out and making it visible is more rewarding than I ever dreamed it might be. I was silenced as a young girl. I’ve put that aside in order to speak for myself, about myself.
I like your ‘name’ — Life After Fifty. Turning 50 was my big year of celebration–the year I confronted my father and mother, on the eve of my 50th birthday. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, even though it was excruciating to live through. No more silence.
Elouise
LikeLiked by 1 person
..You are still young; enjoy life as long as the heart is still fresh and the soul is gaining courage.
..”Life After Fifty”;a status quo with all emerging fictional thoughts…
Yes, ”No more silence” could change the status quo…
LikeLiked by 2 people
Yes indeed. Especially your final line…
LikeLiked by 2 people