There Are a Thousand Truths out There, and Then There's Mine

First arrives the dropped anchor in my stomach.

Then comes its company: the burning, the tensing, the anxiety, the flushing, the shame.

What have I done?

Too late, it's sent. A message to We Are Her about sharing my truth. After seeing another fierce survivor share her story on Survivor Sunday, I felt emboldened. Wish I could be that brave, I sighed. Instead, I remain frozen in my car staring at the scabs on my arm in the pouring rain.

Good old trusty survivor's brain shows up, right on cue.

That's stupid. Why would you do that? What if someone sees it? You're so ashamed and scared of your truth, you scrapped your personal social media accounts. She's not going to respond. She is busy. She is not going to post it. She has more heart-warming or gut-wrenching stories to share. Yours does not matter. It's not that bad. Stop trying to make it matter. Stop trying.

A prompt reply drives out the flush. Her reassurance provides my rational brain with the opportunity to grab back the reigns of control.

Yes, there is a thousand truths out there. But someone's could look a lot like yours.