Truth

I have been spending a lot of time in the contemplation of truth and lies. That space of conflict between someone who is brave enough to be honest and one who fears the consequences of their own honesty. The tension it creates in my chest is uncanny.

I am a person whose whole life is defined by truth. When I was in college and at that time a self-professed Christian, I remember creating my FaceBook account (can you guess what years I was in college 😛) and in the section marked “Religion” I had a hard time typing “Christian.”
Looking back I think it was probably because I was really wrestling with a lot of the theology that I was being taught at the private Christian University I was attending. I was deeply bothered by people’s (mostly white people’s) lack of awareness and accountability around the sins of society and the dominant culture, particularly the injustices being experienced everyday by people of color. By students of color right there at our God fearing school of the sacred and saved. All of these contradictory ways of living that surrounded me was starting to really piss me off and sparked a lifelong fire in me to get to the bare bones truth of it all.
So on my FaceBook profile I did not select “Christian” instead I typed, “Truth Seeker.”

To tell a lie creates an actual physical reaction in my body that makes me feel uneasy and sometimes straight out ill. I have actually had to train myself out of this in times where being “untruthful” is what is actually best for my safety, wellbeing, or sanity in that moment.

Listen when I am talking about truth I am referring to the real, unfiltered truth. For example passing by an unhoused individual and having them ask me if I “have any change that I can spare” to which I usually just say nothing or “Sorry not today.” Those are two forms of lying in my book! One is the absence of truth, the withholding of information that would actually satisfy the question. While the second is just a bold face lie, the intentional sharing of misinformation to avoid doing something that I just don’t want to do or to avoid the consequences of sharing the truth. Which in this example might be the individual getting angry with me or me having to feel shame for my lack of caring.
The TRUTH is yes I do have change to spare. Money to spare. While I am not wealthy I am comfortable and hold in my physical and digital possession so much more than this human that is seeking it.

The truth is, that I am not going to stop and explain this truth to the individual at hand. I could pause and say, “Well sir yes actually I do in fact have some amount of money that I could spare on your behalf but just another block down is another individual not so different from yourself that is also going to ask me and at some point I will have given more than I wanted to and so it has actually become much easier for me to just ignore you or to say sorry, not today.”
We could go even deeper into my truth bucket and begin exploring the complexities and frustrations of those living in the category of “unhoused” or even “unemployed” and the ways in which it strains and taxes society at large. The very society that is also a contributor to these individuals’ dire situations.
We could then go even deeper into my truth that I have worked within the field of social work/human services/mental health for my entire adult life and I am completely burned out by people’s struggles. I have developed a hardened edge to the level of suffering being experienced in the world and have lost all tolerance for people who are not working as hard as I am to keep their shit together.
Bare boned truth… I don’t give shit anymore.
I have burned myself to the core giving all the shits and they have now left my body.

That is my truth.
And the truth is that there are people who are going to read this and resonate with it and there are those that will read it and judge the fuck out of me.
Such is the reality of truth bearing.
Another truth to add to this pile of truths, is that as I write this my chest feels lighter. I can breathe a bit deeper. And even better, I don’t feel bad about it.

Can you imagine the well of truths that reside within my chest? My solar plexus? My gut?
The truth is, I don’t think most people could handle it.
So I keep it in. Or I spontaneously and compulsively spew it everywhere.
Depends on the day.

Back to the power struggle between truth and lie though. It is a place that I honestly despise being in the midst of. It makes my mind go wild. It sparks anxiety as my little intuitive tentacles reach for the truth of all things and then experience the stinging slap of rejection from the fear of those that refuse to accept it.
The truth is, I always know. Most of us do, especially women, even when we don’t realize it. Even when we don’t WANT to realize it.
It comes without effort like waves on the shore. Steady. Repetitive. Expected. Returned.
Again and again and again.
It ALWAYS finds itself nestled in my chest. Showing up in songs, TV shows, text messages, tarot, dreams, people watching, the air, the trees, the water, the fire.
It. Is. Everywhere.
It has come to me through pocket dials, strangers, notifications, misplaced mail, open phones, friends, family, and God herself.
When you are a truth seeker it isn’t hard to find it. She comes to you in whispers that cause you to turn left instead of right. To look at your phone. To answer the call. To read the article. To question everything. To trust the sensation that flows into your chest in screams or is released from it in full exhales.

What if that truth is muddled with trauma responses though?
What if your amygdala driven mind is telling you that the facts don’t matter, only your current perception and visceral experience in this moment is what is true? When in fact it is just a memory? Presenting itself in a sympathetic nervous system response and a flight of thoughts?
How do you decipher what is true and what is not?
What if in your attempts to verbalize these fears you have are met with gaslighting? With shame? With anger? With silence?
What if you are left alone in your own mind to sort through the fragments of a puzzle that simply doesn’t make sense and yet has convinced you otherwise?

What if the truth is your trauma trigger?
What if the thing you fear most, you avoid at all cost, is in fact the deepest most sincere truth?

I feel like I have been fighting my truth.
I feel like my anger with other people’s lack of honesty is actually anger at myself for not just acknowledging my truth that their LACK of truth has been my source of trauma.

How can I live a life in constant conflict with something that is central to who I am?
That goes against my greatest core value.
That goes against me.

Even as I write this it feels muddled.
Because the truth is that my truth changes. What feels so real to me today might shift again tomorrow. Or does that mean that it isn’t actually the truth yet? Is it me still seeking it?

Here are some truths that I know with certainty. That are unmoving. That were once hidden at the bottom of my truth bucket but now stand rooted in the dirt beside me…

I need peace in my life.
My boundaries are for my protection.
I love my kid more than life itself.
Motherhood has been a vessel of fiery transformation that I continue to welcome every day.
I love myself. Like truly.
My mind makes me crazy and has also been my greatest gift in being a successful therapist.
I am a highly sensitive person (HSP). I need more breaks and more alone time than a non-HSP.
I don’t care that I don’t give a shit anymore about most things that used to drive me nuts.
I am always going to be rageful about injustices.
I am not scared to speak my truth. To you. To me. To anybody.

My name is Eileen and I am a Truth Seeker ✨