Emily Howard, Writer

I just read through one of my blogs from ten years ago and it made me sad.

It was so witty and honest and fun. It made me feel like I have somehow lost myself over the last few years. In trying to pinpoint the reason, I came to this realization…I have become afraid. I have become afraid of conflict, of others’ opinions, of hurting someone, of causing a stir. My goal has somehow morphed from being a loving, caring, fun, grace-filled presence in the lives of others into being as safe and accommodating as possible.

And let me tell you, friends, it is not working.

Because when I spend every minute trying to make sure everyone else is comfortable, guess who becomes horribly uncomfortable? That’s right. Me. And I came to the startling realization that I am doing my family and the world no favors by shutting off the parts of myself that might raise eyebrows. Because those are also the parts of myself that make me feel most alive. I am not everyone’s cup of tea. And finally, FINALLY, at the age of almost 44, I think I am becoming OK with that.

So what does this mean, exactly? I am not going to hide out anymore, for one. As time has gone by I find myself staying home more and more, not participating in the world. The reason for this is I have forgotten how to be myself in the world. I am always scared of saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing, being awkward, being embarrassed, or worst of all, hurting someone unintentionally. I have just about the most open heart and mind imaginable. This has allowed me to learn new things, to grow, to evolve, to change. I am different than I was. And this different me, I am afraid, will not gel with a lot of people. But that’s OK, I am going to let her out anyway. I am not going to hide her anymore because she might offend someone.

I recently went on a mission trip to Costa Rica. I have gone five times now, with mostly the same group, visiting prisons and families of prisoners. I love this work because my heart is for the marginalized and I believe that everyone deserves a second chance. I will write more about this trip later, because there is much to say, but my focus for this entry is different. I have gone on four of these trips with a woman I consider my best friend. We don’t talk much, which is entirely my fault. I am a lousy friend. I don’t call, and as I have established already, I do a lot of staying at home. But the love is always there, even if I am not communicating it well.

On mission trips you become very raw and exposed. Lack of sleep, homesickness, and having to deal with people cause a kind of fragility that you don’t normally feel in your daily life. At one point of the mission, my friend and I were covering some windows in preparation for an event and talking. She confessed to me that I had hurt her feelings by something I had said. She added, “you are sometimes very blunt and hard to read.”

Friends, I was floored. I have never once in my life been blunt. I measure my words so very carefully to avoid situations like this that most of the thoughts in my head go unsaid, to the detriment of myself and everyone around me. The comment that hurt her was said by me in jest, but the sentiment remained. And all I could think was, “my God, she doesn’t know me at all.”

I had changed from open, loving, and witty to closed off and hard to read. How did this happen? Who have I become?

I hope and pray that 2023 is the year I start being myself again. I’m probably going to make some of you mad, and that’s OK. Maybe by being more open I will finally, finally find the tribe that I have been searching for.