The power of truth

January 20, 2014 | Life in My 50s

Truth is important to me. I try to speak it here. I try to speak it in my real life. I try to speak it on Facebook. Because, to me, if you ain’t got truth, well, you ain’t got much. But not everybody loves truth, as I often hear via private emails from anonymous strangers, sometimes (but not often, thankfully, because I have great readers) on my blog, and occasionally in comments on my Facebook page.

I think people get uncomfortable with truth because it sort of makes them face their own, even if they don’t like to admit it. And so they have to undermine yours or mine or the stranger spilling her guts on a blog because they think it makes them stronger, gives them power. But they’ve got it totally upside down.

In the past two days, I’ve come across two beautiful blog posts by other writers talking about this kind of truth-sharing, the pain of it, the joy of it, the need for it if you want to live an authentic life.

From The Bloggess, “Strange and Beautiful”:dictionary-series-philosophy-truth

I don’t know if it’s the planets or the meds or the darkness of winter, but this week I’ve been a bit down in the hole and I suspect I’m not the only one…

If you’re sad or lonely or feeling like you’re one of the misfit toys, know that you are part of us. And remember that those misfit toys always were always far more interesting than the normal ones.

Tell someone that you love them, or that they’re important. And tell yourself. Because it’s true.


From Hands Free Revolution, “One Bold Move, Two Healing Words”

My friends, there is something far worse than being called a monster by a total stranger when sharing the painful truths of your life. And that is this: Not revealing your painful truths. Ever. To anyone, not even yourself.

Swallowing your hurts, insecurities, and fears on a regular basis so nobody knows how you really feel is worse than a cruel remark from someone on the Internet.

Holding up a façade like everything is perfectly fine when you feel like you’re dying inside is worse than a not-so-glowing remark on a blog post.

Acting like you’ve never lost it over an exploding toilet …

Acting like you’ve never yelled at your kids …

Acting like you’ve never looked at yourself in the mirror and felt disgusted …

Acting like you’ve never felt awkward, inadequate, or alone is far, far worse than admitting your pain and having someone condemn you for it.

Because here’s what happens when you speak the painful truths locked in your soul: You offer someone else the chance to say, “Me too.”

But it’s not easy.

I’m pretty sure we can all agree that admitting one’s darkest truths to another person is very difficult. I know I’ll never forget when I did it for the first time. Actually, the truth kind of slipped out because I couldn’t hold up the façade for one more minute. But before I had the chance to feel horrified about what I admitted, my friend said, “Me too.”…

My friends, if I I could encourage you to make one bold move today, I would urge you to do this:

Speak your difficult truths.

Invite someone in on your struggles.

Admit things are not as easy as they look.

And if someone admits a mistake, a fear, or a failure, offer up an honest, “Me too.”

To reveal who you truly are gives someone else the permission to do the same. And when two people meet in the loving light of realness, that camaraderie becomes a protective shield—one that can keep you standing even when life’s harshest attacks try to knock you down.

Go to the blog links to read the full posts. Totally worth it. And then go speak your truth.


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