I survived Blissdom.
Actually, it would be more accurate to write I thrived at Blissdom. More than once during the conference I found myself saying, “This is bliss.” From the beautiful setting of the Opryland hotel, to the chair massages and manicures, to the lobster bisque provided in the expo area, to seeing and spending time with so many women I love and respect, it was a wonderful experience.
The first post I write post-conference is always hard. I’ve been surrounded by so much talent for days that I’m both inspired and intimidated when I stare at the blank New Post screen. So much I want to say, and yet so much anxiety that I could never say it as well as others and never will be able to match them in their gift for the written word.
This time, however, I had the privilege of listening to Brene Brown during the opening keynote. Thanks to her wise words I was given a new outlook on being vulnerable, and found comfort in the simple phrase, “I am enough.”
Because let’s face it: I’ve never been enough. My entire life has been filled with not being enough. I was a smart child, but I wasn’t quite a genius, so it wasn’t good enough for some who were supposed to have loved me. I was socially awkward, which wasn’t good enough for my peers. I wasn’t enough for someone to love with all of their heart, and so I was cheated on in relationships. It was easy to internalize all of those messages into one great big feeling of inadequacy, knowing there was always someone who was better at anything I did.
Those feelings of shame are good at building a protective little cocoon around a bruised and battered ego. But in doing so, the real person gets buried deep behind the protective walls, barricaded against vulnerability. Turns out, though, being vulnerable can be kind of freeing. Being vulnerable lets your unique light shine through to everyone. And in listening to Brene Brown speak, I came to a conclusion that I’ve been working towards for years now: I don’t have to live up to the expectations of others, or live in anyone’s shadow. I can be enough for me and for those who matter the most to me.
I want to be more vulnerable, to worry less about how others see me and more about how I see my progress towards my own happiness. It’s a big step to take, having hidden so many of my quirks for so long as I tried to conform to everyone else’s ideals. But I have a very quirky autistic daughter. Cordy is quickly reaching an age where she will become aware of just how different she is. I don’t want her to suffer through shame as she forces herself to conform and then fails to reach the gold standard of “good enough” to everyone else. I want her to be happy with herself, and that will be a hard message to teach if I can’t walk the walk myself.
It’s not too often that you come home from a blogging conference with a new outlook on life. I’m looking forward to what I can discover about myself.
Dare to be stupid. (Thank you, Weird Al.) Dare to fail. It’s time to stop being scared of what others will think. Welcome to my blog, folks. I don’t promise enlightenment from reading this, and I don’t even promise you’ll like me. But that’s OK. I can’t be everything to everyone.
I am enough.
