Your Story

My tagline reads “Everyone comes to the point, at some time, where they must just walk away.” I don't think I realized just how profound that statement would be for my life, or anyone else's for that matter. When I wrote it, I was simply angry, frustrated at my upbringing, my circumstances and my previous belief system that seemed to still have somewhat of a stranglehold on my life. I was trying to deal with emotional baggage and turmoil.

I was wallowing in my story.

It was a good story, too. Full of angst and anger, abuse and self-loathing, with a main character who was lost and trying to find his way in the world. I have written some of my story on this blog previously. I wanted others who had shared experiences to know they weren't alone.

Yeah... at least that was what I told myself.

Looking back, I know I didn't believe that part of the story because I couldn't bring myself to write all of it. Something just didn't jive. As badly as part of me wanted to, I couldn't continue to demonize my parents for raising me the way they did. So I quit writing.

But I didn't quit thinking about how to tell my story, I just knew that I couldn't tell it the way I had intended to.

Tonight I watched the season premier of Oprah's Lifeclass Tour. (You can watch it on www.oprah.com... sign in or sign up and go to Lifeclass)She shared the stage with Iyanla Vanzant. They spoke of overcoming your pain, and overcoming your past.

I think the most powerful portion of the program for me was meeting Steve, a gentleman who was down on his luck, depressed and on the verge of diving back into chemical addiction. During the course of the conversation with Steve, Iyanla asked him where his daddy was. Steve replied that he was deceased. She then explained that she was not asking about his father, but his daddy... the man who “put the tapes in your head on how to be a man”. To which he replied he never had one. She had recognized in him that he was one of what she calls “the fatherless sons”.
Iyanla then proceded to stand him up, take hold of his face (gently as a mother would) and tell him  "Your mother loved you unconditionally and she asks your forgiveness for not being who you wanted her to be. And your father is proud of you. Your father is proud of you." She repeated this several times as tears began to stream down his face and his expression began to change from pain to peace. And then she yelled out “I need a man!”
She called two gentlemen up on stage, stood one face to face with Steve...to be his fathers voice... and the other back to back...so that Steve would know that his brother had his back, and instructed the gentleman facing Steve to tell him that his father is proud of him.

I must admit, at this point I was in tears. I realized that in that moment, those things were being said to me...and that I desperately needed to hear them.

But there was another transforming moment for me in this broadcast.

Iyanla asked Steve:

“Who would you be without your story?”

My story... I don't do drugs, rarely do alcohol anymore, cigarettes are losing their appeal... but I have been addicted to my story for years, and like all addictions it has torn me down, beaten me up and left me bleeding on the side of a deserted road. And in true addict form, when someone has come along to help me up, I have immediately sought another fix, by telling them my story...

And so, I ask you, as I ponder this question myself...
Who would you be without your story?