In 2016, after a year of intense speaking engagements, I stopped.
I’d thought it was burnout. But looking back, it was because after a while, I’d felt too exposed.
As I spoke outside home ground yesterday, I realized-
Outside home turf, I armour myself unconsciously, slipping on a straitjacket to be seen as worthy. Yesterday, as the emcee introduced me with no introduction because “I don’t want to draw attention to the speaker, but God instead,” I felt an involuntary pang within, a desperation to be validated. It was SO GOOD, but also hard.
The problem is- speaking in public for me is almost akin to dancing (the kind you do alone in the kitchen) in public. I always pray to hold nothing back- no matter what the audience size.
But it’s scary to be exposed. Because when I speak, its the deepest parts of my life, in all its stretch-marked brokenness under full scrutiny.
Will the audience hold space for me? When my shame triggers are under the spotlight, will someone push the button?
Brene Brown writes, “Laughter is a spiritual form of communing; without words we can say to one another, ‘Im with you. I get it.”
Yesterday, the audience laughed, cried with me. An old lady came just to hug me, wordless.
But what helped the most- was a familiar face at the end, a new IG-friend who came to support, pray with me, take photos, share honest thoughts. The feeling I hate the most is leaving an event alone- wrestling the void on my own. Or sharing on zoom without seeing faces, receiving no feedback.
I wish I could say only God’s feedback matters, but after putting yourself out there, it helps to hear how you touched someone. Because you wanna know your dancing in public that came with the risk of inviting scorn was worth it.
To all of you who’ve sent me DMs to share how you’ve been blessed, thank you so much.🥲
It helps me recover from self-doubt and be brave again, to put my whole self out there every single time, even if I feel shamed. Or afraid. Or critiqued.
Let’s always, always choose courage. 💪🏾💫