On a rainy night, as the sky opened up and came down, I poured out my life story into the early morning to a seemingly old and kind nonjudgmental soul and it was unexpected, and it was intimately reciprocated, and it felt like freedom. The next morning I woke up with a little more perk after the pour. The morning workout felt lighter, and was a bit elated about it. Then, after overthinking it into the day, I was frightened by the raw vulnerability of it, and I began to regret it. I thought about it during my week of off and on of "woman who becomes an entrepreneur" pressures and stressors it hit me that I was concerned about over pouring. It had taken years for me to really pour my soul out to anyone.
Giving too much, but in that case, "the pour" had been the same for us both that night. I left feeling a sacred oath between us. We were indeed matched in our giving too honestly to each other in those moments. I figured that out by the following week in between. We had both been equally as honest but that night. I think we both worried about the rawness and the overexposure.
And, as the universe would have it, my pride, vulnerability, and insecurities would take over.
As I sat in my car after church today, I was deeply missing my family , my grandmother and aunt who always figured it out for me, or we for each other. These women would have listened intently to my story, set me straight, given me a Bible verse or chapter to read, and sent me on my merry way with love, confident on my way forward. And that would have worked.
Now I know that I am able to pour, I'm hopeful. I'm glad that I poured, no matter how it worked out, that means I have hope, and an open heart.
I will continue to pour love and do what I can with what I have into my work, my projects and my purpose.