Lynse Leanne

I shared my story out loud for the first time ever. Consecutively. There are people that know the bits and pieces that put all together help to create a glimpse of who i am. But I have never, out loud, in my voice shared my story. I wrote it down. I posted it on here. And for me that was relatively easy.

You see, writing is very easy for me. To write my deepest feelings comes natural. Sharing them online is a little harder but most certainly leaps and bounds easier than vocalizing them.

in my 24 year old brain saying something out loud has such power. It makes it more real. It leaves me feeling more exposed. I can hide behind my computer screen and type things out and click “publish” and there it goes. I dont see people reading it. I dont see their reaction. I may hear about it, but I’m not there when they read it. So they cant hurt me. They cant reject me. It’s very safe.

But a while ago i took a step out of my comfort zone and i shared my story out loud. I had been walking each morning with a lady from our church here whom is older than me and has grown children. Her life has been one of ups and downs, like most peoples. She was real and she was willing to speak very freely about her faults and failures. Because she was so open with me i wanted to return the favor. and i knew she would be safe.

I thought, how hard could sharing my story be out loud? I mean, i blogged it and people read it and I am fine. It’s already out there.

But the day came when i had decided i would share.

i froze.

I babbled and stalled.

I brought up small talk throughout our walk to hopefully run out of time to be able to share my story. I had let the fear of sharing with her face to face stop me from sharing the things that i went through and have built me.

I went home very frustrated with myself because i couldnt even share out loud the things that happened. I was scared to connect some of the words like sexual abuse or drug addiction to myself out loud. As if it would make it more real than it already was. I was scared to see her reaction.

What if she judged me?
What if she didn’t want to go walking anymore?
What if she saw me as needy?
What if….

So i went home discouraged and decided that no matter how uncomfortable it made me it wasnt an option. I would have to break my little issue and share it out loud. It was the next step in my healing.

The next morning we went walking and i made small talk for a bit and knew i needed to step out. So, i took a deep breath in and went into it. It took the duration of our walk to share it…the ins and outs. the hurts and dynamics. But i shared my story out loud.

in that moment i felt more free than i ever had. for the first time i shared in front of someone and she didnt judge me. she didnt think i was sick or twisted. she listened. she wanted to understand the things that make me, me. and it was fantastic.

have you shared your story? does sharing things out loud scare you like me?

This picture was taking in High School…the summer between my Junior and Senior year.

The four of us were inseparable. We did everything together. We met at church…well, i met them at church, they were friends much longer than I was in the picture because we moved between my sophomore and junior year.

There were so many fun memories that we all had together. There were a lot of things we learned about each other, life and ourselves. Together we dealt with big life issues and played…usually in the same day.

These 3 girls made my last 2 years in high school enjoyable. They were the first friends to know my story. They loved me. We loved and still love each other.

- we would sneak out to fork our youth pastors lawn, video tape it, show our parents and then lie about WHEN it was.
- we shared some of our darkest moments.
- we kept up on each others lives through our spybooks.
- we had random photo shoots.
- we snuck in and redesigned Irene’s room, while you were out style.
- we went camping.
- we endured, each Sunday, the bible study we were in and affectionately referred to it as “torture.”
- tattoos before we were 18.
- we drove one early morning to Denver to see Hanson. Sat in the hot sun all day for a 7pm show. And Zac touched our hands. Irene and I cried.

That time in life felt like a movie. We all had different styles, different life stories, different families and different perspectives. But it worked.

We have all gone our separate ways…. Irene has 4 precious kids and an amazing husband who is in the Air Force. Rachel is married to her first love and she’s in nursing school. Becca is living in California and is beautiful as ever. and well, we know where I am.

i know i look back on those days with fond memories. Some fun and hilarious. Some tough and growing experiences. But all memories that have made me the Lynse that i am today.

Do you have those friends that you knew in High School that you still talk with?

today in the ample time i have at the coffee shop i was thinking about being happy and if you can have joy and be unhappy at the same time…and if there is a difference in happiness and joy.

i know that there have been times in my life when i am happy externally…like things are going my way and everything is good. But then the other times in life when i am not too happy and the things around me kind of suck. You know, the times when you’re not happy with your job or the amount of money you have.

on the other hand i know that joy is a fruit of the spirit and you should walk always in the joy that God is the provider and saviour. But does that mean that i always have to be happy?

Anyways my thought is, is there a difference between joy and happiness? Is joy internal and happiness external? Can you have joy inside and be very unhappy with the life around you?

Curious of your thoughts. Is there a difference in joy and happiness? is joy internal and happiness circumstantial?

I think i have found my life’s soap box.  You know, the thing that gets your blood boiling faster than anything else on the entire world.  I say i “found” it, but truthfully, its always been there….but i have just now discovered the line that ties all the things i thought were just floating in the nebulous land of soap boxes.

My soap box: Discounting.  Plain and simple.

I am not talking about the awesome discounts you get when you use coupons or whatever but the discounting of people and their experiences.

In TwentyFourSeven Leadership Academy that I was in for 2 years nearly drilled this concept into my head.  I never really understood the importance of the concept until recent “soul searching”.  We were taught time and time again to not “discount” other students experiences by making off the cuff comments about how bad that sermon was or how much we hated that song or how lame that mission project was.  I never got it cause i was just being sarcastic or voicing my opinion.  Then one day the heart of it was explained to me.  I had a light switch moment. It made sense in my head.

Just because I didn’t like the song or the sermon or the experience or the memories that was being created didn’t mean that everyone felt the same way.  Maybe the song that we sang lead to breakthrough in someones life or the message i was critiquing and stating how “lower shelf” it was and just senseless babble brought freedom to that person.  You never know.  Speaking poorly about an experience that may have meant the world to someone else is discounting it for them.  You are making it a little less special for them.  You are calling doubt and question into play in an experience that could be the catalyst for life change.

Discounted.

This is why comparing stories and testimonies frustrate me so much.  I wrote about it here (we are all right).  Just because my story may be more intense or less intense than yours doesn’t and shouldn’t discount the fact that you are a person with stories and experiences that make you.

You are not me.  You are you.

That’s another form of discounting that can lead a persons voice or perceived voice to be stolen from them.

I had a similar experience a while back where i felt like my feelings and experiences i had been through were being discounted because it was “not as bad or serious” as the person i was being compared to.  My emotions, feelings and experiences were discounted.  They were made less because someone felt that i had no right to have those feelings and emotions.

Discounted.

For me, it caused me to shut down and feel like my voice was taken.  That my feelings and experiences were no longer valid.  That forever i would be compared to _________ and if my thoughts and feelings were not deemed acceptable they should not be shared.

I had allowed myself to be discounted.

I spent a few weeks angry.  Then i was hurt.  Then i was angry again.  And in all of this i stopped updating my blog, i stopped commenting on blogs because i didnt feel like i had a voice to contribute or an opinion that was valued.

I don’t know that i truly understood the concept until that moment.  Until i had experienced being discounted.  The gut wrenching feeling of my feelings being discounted.

I have since spent some time finding my value and voice in things other than blogging and twitter.  I don’t feel discounted anymore.

Through my experience and hurt i discovered my life’s soap box.  The little piece of what i view as injustice that i can fight for.

What’s your life’s soapbox?  What makes your blood boil?

I was thinking about this the other day.  And Chad, my husband who could and does talk to empty rooms…and no, there is nothing wrong with him he’s just highly social was asking me this.

When do social anxiety issues become an excuse or a cop out?

I have social anxiety issues.  Due to several reasons and the fact that i am a natural introvert and enjoy my time alone or with a few close friends i despise large group settings.

DESPISE.

I dont even like small group settings where i dont know everyone personally.  I am awkward.  I forget how to talk with out getting bright red and because its easier tend to become a wall flower that comes off as super standoffish.

But, i know this about me.

I tend to decline invites to things because they make me uncomfortable.  I feel out of control.  And Chad, being the good husband pointed out to me that sometimes it is my excuse.

You remember a while back those commercials for Herbal Essence or something like that where the girl kept saying she couldnt go on a date because she “had to wash my hair.”  Valid…washing your hair is a very good thing, but it was an excuse.

I have to protect my emotions and anxiety levels because it does mess me up and get me all stressed.  It effects my sleeping and my eating.  But at the same time i have to suck it up for several reasons.

1. how will i ever be “ok” in social settings if i keep saying no to them?
2. what does it communicate to the people that want to hang out with me if i keep saying no?
3. life is all about balance.  i cant always say yes and i cant always say no.
4. sometimes stretching my comfort zone proves to me and others that its not as bad as i think it is.

I used to freak out and have crying spells before going into my own birthday parties.  Chad can attest to this.  It was the first “event” we went to for me (my birthday) that i was scared to death to go to.  Because i would be the center of attention.  Details were given to the hosts and they knew if i felt threatened i would leave.  was i uncomfortable?  yes!  Was it a healthy and safe thing to do? Yes!  I went it and it was obviously a good decision.  I had a blast with my friends.  I ate incredible food.  And most importantly made some good memories.

I could have made an excuse….and stayed home in my comfort zone.  Instead i pushed myself and it paid off.

i am curious if im the only one….or do you let your social anxiety get in the way of life?