Finding Vulnerability in Grit and Grace

Allowing my authentic self to shine through.

Photo by Eli DeFaria on Unsplash

My husband wrote me an email from his cubical viciously detailing years of resentment and his desire for a divorce.

I read the words as if they were a fictional story. Denial was my immediate defense.

I thought I could fix it and move on with our seemingly successful charade. And yet, he wouldn’t let me. He refused to speak to me or see me. He was done.

As denial faded, delusion arose. My mind resisted reason and churned incessantly with plots and schemes.

I wasn’t eating, sleeping, or breathing very much.

I was rail-thin and had no appetite. It hurt to chew.

Sleep would cradle me in its peaceful arms for a few hours and then unsympathetically kick me out like an unwanted guest. I wasn’t welcome in my own dreams.

I could hear myself breathing and thought who’s making so much noise? I wish you’d stop that ruckus so I can figure out how to fix my life.

Choosing

I was more afraid of admitting mistakes than I was of taking my life. When suicidal thoughts began to shift from terrifying to comforting, that was my cue to ask for help.

My sisters and close friends stayed with me in rotations. I started therapy, and 12-step recovery was presented as an option to consider.

There were dozens of recovery meetings near my house. I chose one that had the word serenity in the title.

Like a dream, I walked into the meeting room and immediately felt like I forgot my pants.

I glanced across the room and saw smiles and realized I heard laughter. This is odd. I want to die, and these people have the audacity to express joy.

I sat down, and the room gradually hushed as the meeting began.

I closed my eyes and listened intently like it was the first time I had used my hearing and comprehension simultaneously.

Willful Honesty

I committed to show up and participate, not knowing what that really meant.

Adam was the secretary and welcomed me with smiling eyes and a tender hug. He presented me with a few pamphlets and a shiny silver coin and encouraged me to keep coming back.

I sat in amazement at the depth of willful honesty that was being shared. Status and social nuances were irrelevant. Vulnerability was the only currency that mattered.

I heard other people telling my story and wondered if my house was wiretapped.

One after the other, chronicles of courage and determination to heal filled the room.

Whispers of hope began to arise. Maybe there was another way. Not necessarily out, but through.

The time came for newcomers to share. Anxiety flooded my body, and I froze in fear.

As tears and snotty glops streamed down my face, I wondered if people could actually die from judgment.

In the silence, every second seemed to last a millennium. My chest tightened. My throat constricted.

My ego may kill me if I tear down the facade.

Faith Over Fear

Until that day, I didn’t have words for the raw discontent that was ever-present. I had carried it around sheepishly for years like thrift store luggage.

The philosophy of recovery felt genuine and doable. Simple, but not easy. Follow these 12 steps and your life will change.

I grounded myself in the room by closing my eyes and feeling the sensations of being in my body — feet on the floor, hands in my lap.

Breathe. Just breathe, I kept silently repeating as my short, choppy breaths eventually began to even out.

I decided to choose faith over fear — life over death.

Start with a few words. How about your name?

Hope Steps In

I was crying so hard I could barely speak. My voice was strained and resistant.

Fear dissipated ever so slightly, and traces of humility appeared.

The challenge was that I had never admitted I was anything less than perfect.

I believed that I had to do, perform, and achieve flawlessly to be loved. My worth was tied to tangible facets of usefulness.

Talking about fears, insecurities, and mistakes wasn’t part of my vocabulary. Internalizing judgment and shame was all I knew.

Until that morning, I’d lived most of my life impersonating a strong, successful woman. It was the embodiment of my entire identity.

In that moment, clarity arose. It was time to stop pretending.

I heard a familiar voice telling a jarring story of pain and regret and was shocked to realize it was my own. My gripping reticence had seemingly disappeared.

Truths of low self-esteem, manipulation, and emotional unavailability began to spew from my soul. Each sentence eased the tension and provided relief from my lifelong load of lies.

The sensation of freedom enveloped me like a gift of providence.

To rise out of denial and see the unseen requires grace, acceptance, and a willingness to change. My healing journey began when I finally surrendered.

I saw glimpses of serenity, and my authentic self started to shine through.

. . .

Rebecca Murauskas is a Life Coach for professionals. She helps people be free of stress and overwhelm, reclaim their purpose, and feel fulfilled. Rebecca and her husband, Adam, abandoned their careers and moved to Panamá in 2019 to pursue passions for helping people heal. Take the free Time Saver Quiz and find additional content at RebeccaMurauskas.com.