Be Brave. Teach Brave.

Last week  in a coaching class that I take to keep me on top of my game in my industry, the leader asked who would like to come to the front of the class to play with him for a bit. We were talking about the content we provide and how to ensure that it’s valuable. Everyone’s time is limited and our attention spans are maxed. So, while I was excited to learn some new ideas, I wasn’t prepared to be front and center of the Zoom screen and telecast to twelve countries. I was going to sit back and absorb. Good strategy.

And then it happened. That nagging voice inside me started prodding, “Raise your hand!”

I’ve heard this voice often in my life and I’ve learned that it has more wisdom than I, so I make a point to follow its advice, just not always enthusiastically. 

A friend later told me she saw the inner conflict in my body as I slowly, trepidatiously raised my hand. There were so many others with hands up, but of course, I was singled out. 

“Seriously?!” my mind said, as I noticed myself bracing for impact. 

What pursued for the next forty-five minutes was excruciating and yet also so very liberating. 

Eben, my coach, asked lots of questions about my clients, their stories, their experiences. That part was easy. I could speak for weeks about the amazing women (like you) that I have supported for twenty years. Easy. And then he asked about my own story. 

It started with a simple question, “Have you also felt this way, Sara?”

“Have you also had a similar experience with your husband or someone close to you?” 

My ears were taking it in and my mind began to buzz and all I remember hearing was a profound voice in my head saying, “Oh, hang on! We’re not going there!”

But I was. I had agreed to do the game. I signed up. Hand was up and I was in. And, importantly, I trust Eben. (Trust makes all the difference!) 

“Could you share with us about your own experience?” 

I knew he didn’t want a surface answer. He wanted the truth, the real, raw, emotional truth of a turning point for me when I realized I could no longer stay in my marriage and the answer surprised me. In the intensity of this environment, cocooned in trust and with a deep desire to push through my own barriers, I metaphorically pulled back the curtain and saw the truth for the first time. 

I had been in a marriage that, I’ve come to see now, was emotionally abusive. My growth and spiritual work woke me up and reminded me that I had a voice and desires and values that weren’t getting exercised. When I began coming back into myself, the struggle became real between us. I was no longer the person that my then-husband desired. He made it known often. 

For around fifteen years I endured the conflict. Keeping the peace felt more important than rocking the boat, especially where my daughters were concerned. 

In my conversation with my coach, as he pushed me to go deeper, the memory came. 

I was dressing for date night, excited to have some personal time with my husband. My daughter and I were futzing in the bathroom with make-up and outfits. She was excited for me and wanted to participate. My husband shouted from the other room that he’d invited another couple that were his new friends; this was not the evening I had in mind. My heart sank as I recognized yet another diversion from being alone with me. 

My daughter spoke up, “Mom, why don’t you say something? Why do you keep letting him treat you this way?” It was a subtle comment and yet it hit me hard. It was as if consciousness returned to my body for the first time in so very long. She saw it, She knew; and if she knew, why was I going through all the charades to pretend that I was fine being treated less than adored, amazing, magnificent as I deserved? 

That was my breakthrough moment. I had been going through the motions, trying to keep my daughters safe and dying a little bit more each day inside myself. And she asked me why would I allow this to continue. Wow.

When I shared the story with my class, trying to hold back my tears, there was so much silence that I caught myself checking to see if my internet had gone down. Even our leader was speechless. An intimate share, real and raw - needed a moment of pause to take in. 

This is who I am. 

I am a woman choosing to be brave for my daughters. 

I am a coach choosing to be brave for the women I support to find their own voice, to reclaim her power. A dear friend said it so eloquently, “Sara, you are being brave so that you can teach brave.” 

I like to think this is true. It’s at least what I’m practicing and trying to perfect.

What about you? Where could your story shed some light on your own truths? 

How might you share it to inspire others? A whole world might open if you can see beyond your story. Maybe it’s time to write a new one. 

This is the work that I do. It's transformative. It alchemizes the wounds and turns them into your super powers. Today, I can honestly say that I am grateful for what I created (yes, created) because it was the catalyst for the changes I needed to make for myself and my lineage. 

Here for you when you decide to do the same.