I just recently got back from maybe one of the most beautiful places in the whole world…a little Island called St. John. I spent 5 days trying to shake off an insecurity that followed me right from DC like a backpack that was weighty….umm, Rude. I had planned on being Lindsey-good-time and stress free, but day 4, I sat on the beach, alone, unable to sleep, speak or write. But here I was, toes in the sand, browing in the sun and staring at the bluest water I’ve ever seen, and still was uptight. So I did what any Lindsey Fern would do...gave myself an attitude adjustment. I put all of my mental and spiritual energy into uncovering the root of this insecurity or I was going to go nuts.
A few influential relationships, male and female, in the last 6 monthes have negatively labeled me “emotional.” The direct quotes, “I have never dated a girl who has cried as much as you” Or “I hope Lindsey doesn’t get emotional on us”. Wow. First….RUDE. Second, why did this bother me so much? I take little personal usually, and I happen to like that my number one strength is empathy. I can connect with anyone, anywhere, anytime. I can tap into a wide range of the emotions of others; from happiness, sadness, depression; graciousness; uncertainty; fear; pure ambition. I’m that voice of reason for so many others…I can go Dr. Phil on your ass in five minutes and have you feeling like you just went to a weekend retreat or rehab and send you on your way. It's KIND of a gift. Yet I sat burning in the sun, feeling undeserving of even being on this island, undeserving of just about everything.
I have to stop being so hard on myself. Growing up, I have always been the square peg in the round hole. I was the girl in second grade who made my guidance counselor in elementary school cry while telling her about something at home, I can’t even recall. (Ms. Porvecchio later told me she had never met an emotionally mature 7 year old.) I went to high school, where I would go months without speaking to my parents because I genuinely felt like a nuisance, being that I was fifth born and all. I had a huge family, but didn’t know how to communicate with them, so I simply stopped trying altogether. I wasn’t an ugly girl, but I never really had a boyfriend…I was scared to death of intimacy. And I mean, to death. I had friends, but they were caught up in hair and make up and boys…and well, I was a nerd. I was probably reading a book somewhere, rather than sneaking out on dates or making out in the bushes of Blue Mountain Academy. Sophomore year in college I finally found my voice and went from emotionless to being an entire well of feelings that made everyone uncomfortable, even me. I hated everything about my life. I ran twice a day, stopped eating normal amounts and lost twenty pounds, trying to make sense of my new emotionally charged life...but it didn't go away.
Here I am now, finally proud that I have found the beautiful balance of emotional expression. I cry when I’m sad (VERY rare, unless something is up), sing when I’m happy (every day, all day), and constantly look for opportunities to appreciate and acknowledge my amazing family and friends. I never miss an opportunity to show up mentally or physically for a friend when they: get married, lose their job; graduate or get promoted; lose a loved one; get their heart broken; fall in love and cant stop talking about him; serve others; play a game or sport or run with a friend. My running partner is one of my best friends and we bond by putting one step in front of the other…our relationship thrives on our endorphin highs…but get this, we rarely talk. I’ll say it again…Trisha and I: talk so little. She doesn’t love me dissecting her life…she loves me because when she’s tired and can’t keep up the pace, she knows I’ll step up and block the wind for her, and she’ll return the favor by pulling me across the finish line. (We have won races this way…it works, just sayin.) My roommate and I, too, bond mostly without using words. She has told me the way to her heart is by “face time”. So be it...Sarah and I have watched countless episodes of “How I met your mother” and “American Idol" before getting into whats really on her plate, and sometimes don't touch it all...and it's fine. Another good friend bonds by story telling…and since he does truly tell the best stories, I love being the listener and laugh-er. Neither him or I have any idea how it happens, but we are somehow closer after his recollection of most embarrassing story or family talk. What I’m saying, being a master emotional understand-er makes me kind of awesome.
Finally, in the airport on the way home, I remembered the words of a friend who was a recent comfort when I was feeling lesser, she reminded me...even through my own personal heartbreaks, losses, emotional and physical abuse…none of it has hindered my own absolute and pure, unselfish love for others. I have put up no walls; I don’t need you to love me first so I can love you back…I have never regretted loving someone and telling them, even if we aren’t friends or acquaintances anymore. I am not scarred by tragedies and I can love everyone like the first time. It’s a talent I think….an extreme sport I play with an “in it to win it” mentality…like an elite-lover, really. :-)
Here's to my skeptics, whom I still love and try to understand...
“The role of emotion in reasoning has long been negatively viewed. Since Plato, most philosophers have held that emotions interfere with rationality….But wiser reason recognizes the true and great value of feeling. In a full heart, there is room for everything.”
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