Hushed No More

 

 

 

“Speak your mind, even if it makes your voice shake.” – Maggie Khun

Almost 40 years ago, something hit me like a thunderbolt.  It caused me to make the most impacting decision that I had ever made.  It started a huge 360 change in me  and the trajectory sent me on the most incredible empowering journey.  I would never have dared to do that change without hearing a tidbit of what someone else thought was the truth and someone else’s wife seemed to confirm it.  It had me slam the door to 19 years of drama and sent me on a path that I will ever be grateful for.  In the end, it turned out not to be true… not in a mean way nor a deceptive way.  The person who told me what he thought was true had made an honest mistake.  His wife had, unknowingly confirmed it because when asked, I did not tell ehr the bare bones of what I had been told and, she, unwittingly confirmed her husband’s story.  I had meant to confront (make note, I was grateful for the final excuse to make the impacting, incredible change) and I never spit the whole thing out, my truth was scary, so I had, I realize now, beaten around the bush, and more misunderstandings until I think she thought I was the one doing the confession.  It was bizarre that it took 37 years for me to come totally out with what I had heard and how I came to know it was a huge misunderstanding.  When we were speaking about vulnerable things, I came out with the whole truth and then things really blew out of reality.  I learned a danged good lesson about speaking my truth, all of it, at the moment it happens and not let something so incredibly important go unsaid…the whole truth and not hints about what we thought was true.  For almost 40 years, two of us thought our own truths about a situation.  When the chite hit the fan, we both spoken our truths and both of us were so wrong, although I had long since come to the realization that it had been a mistake on someone else’s part and he had meant no harm.  He thought he was protecting me.  For me, it had, somehow, justified even more the reason for my change.  If you are confused, just let me say…do not skip around your truths.  Speak the whole truth, tell the whole story, and get it out of the way.  For years it had to have festered in her.  I had long come to the conclusion it was a huge misspoken thing that caused me to shut the door and walk away.  It is not fixable now, for, truths were almost spoken and so much left unsaid, each of us, walking away from each other without clearing the debris.  I chose not to defend myself.  I simply let it happen because something so good for me came out of it all.  There is no speaking our truths to each other any more.  I had chosen to believe the worst of her and, even though I had come to the reality of it within a short time, she has only begun to face a truth she thought was my truth and I realize she had thought the worst of me.  Confusing?  That is what happens when you do not speak your whole truth and merely hint at truth(s).  We have both lost something hugely important in our lives. It has ended a 42 year sisterhood.

When we speak our truths, about something so very important in one’s life, there can be fear, anxiety, and the worry goes soul deep.  Neither of us had given our truths a chance to be said and neither of us gave ourselves permission to completely talk out what we thought was a truth, and we were sooo wrong.  Neither of us disavowed each other’s truths because, I think, the deep relationship had meant more to us, in some strange way.  Neither of us knew that the other thought something so different.  Neither of us had voiced our absolutely full-boned, fleshed-out truth(s).    We had let our inner intuitions be wrong.  The Ego stepped in and owned it all.  There will be no ‘next time’ to be sure we speak the whole truth, it was that horrible a misunderstanding. 

I, in my part of misunderstanding, thought it was the right time and space and place to begin to share the original story.  Since I had long sorted out the truth, I felt vulnerable, but thought it was time to admit to her what I had thought of her.  It took about a month for her to let out her anger, frustration, and hurt, at what she had thought was the truth.  The original teller of the incident has long since died and there is no one to back up the original story.  And, I decided that the truth had not mattered at all.  It was that I thought she had betrayed me and she thought I had betrayed her.  Now, she is working out what happened, and how we were both sitting on what we thought was a truth, I am sure, and I have to allow her that time and space to realize  that the friendship meant more than the incident that has now shook us both to our core.

I learned a huge lesson, as I said, in speaking my truth(s).  I will no longer pussyfoot around my truths.  I have to remember this and, when I am going to tell my truth, make sure the other(s) understand, it was/is my truth as I knew/know it and always be willing to change what felt like truth if someone comes from their place of truth.  I, also, learned not to let things fester.  There was a great deal of emotion in the first hearing and there is even way more in hearing how the other thought she had learned a truth.  I learned to never walk away from a truth that someone else shares.  I learned that I have to be very careful and be aware of consequences and alternatives of telling my truth(s).  I learned how very very important a whole truth is.  

In this case, the original truth (or what he thought was true, honestly, he truly thought it) had me go on through the divorce, go to University, get out and have a successful career, raise happy children who are successful adults, and had kept what I thought was a sisterfriend through it all.  I have to learn what truths to tell and how and when and why.  Some truths do not set you free.

Have you ever spoken your truth and had it fly back at you with a vengeance?  Have your truth-tellings set you free?  Have your truth-tellings left a huge hole in your life?  What lessons have you learn in telling your truth(s)?

©Carol Desjarlais 5.21.22