There’s something visceral about bleeding your truth. It’s the raw outflow of your deepest juice, pure and unbridled. It’s the jaw-popping goodness you get once you’ve cut through the fluff and surface stuff.
So let’s get right down to it. There’re a lot of words and phrases floating around the blogosphere right now: joy; bliss; authenticity; passion; follow your dreams; make epic shit happen. Pretty words on the screen, but how do you apply them in real terms in real life?
One word: desire.
Desire is what pushes you even when you’re weak and fed up with the obstacles in your path.
Desire is what burns in your gut until you get up and do something with all that tense energy tingling underneath your skin.
Desire is what moves you to give your best so you get the best, both from yourself and the people around you.
Bleeding your truth is the desire to be free. For you. To express and be yourself without muzzling your exuberance. To communicate freely without dumbing down your intelligence.
What is your truth? When will you bleed it? What are you waiting for? Will you ever do it?
In case you’re wondering why you have to lay your soul bare like that and why you can’t just shuffle along in silence, you’ll explode if you do. Literally. All the stuff you’ve refused to say and do will well up and gush out whether you’re ready for them or not.
People who “suddenly” seem to snap one day? It’s never sudden; it’s been building for a long time.
Your truth builds, and builds, and it’s up to you to express it. It’s up to you to live it. It’s up to you to brave it.
In the Great Writers series hosted on his blog, Jeff Goins talks about starting ugly as a way of expressing yourself fully and without restrictions. It’s putting your cards on the table no matter how screwed up or dysfunctional you think they are. Everything ugly can be made beautiful. Every ugly truth has some beauty in it. Only when you start can you transform it.
This is about to get intense, but hang with me for a second.
Are you a rape or other sexual abuse survivor? That truth is ugly. It’s devastating. It’s horrible. But it’s also beautiful. How, you ask? Because you’re a SURVIVOR. You’re still here. You can heal from it and cleanse it from your system. You can get help to work through the aftermath and feel whole again, feel safe again. You can turn that dark ugliness to beauty if you choose.
If you feel your truth is too raw, too intense to share with the world on a large scale, then don’t. Start small. Tell it to your journal. Tell it to a trusted loved one. Form a tight circle and share it. But you have to let it out before it bursts out. You have to let it out because it’s eating you up inside. You have to let it out to give yourself a chance to live freely and authentically.
And the best part is, the more you do it, the more you’ll be accepted for bleeding your truth. Yes some naysayers will criticise you for it, but you’re not fazed by that, are you? Someone out there can relate to or learn from you, and then get the courage to step up and tell theirs as well.
Raw. Unbridled. Fiercely bleeding out your own brand of genius because you’re sick of cookie-cutter phrases and actions that don’t reflect the depth of your brilliance.
What’s eating you up inside? What’s rattling your cage and screaming to be let loose NOW? That is your truth.
Here’s mine: I don’t have all the answers. I’m not happy and smiley all of the time. I hide out from the world and shut everyone out more often than I’d like. I have doubts that pop up every time I sit to write and share with you, every time I explore the soul and ways to live a fulfilled life. Like, who am I to talk when my truth is ugly and misshapen?
Then again, who am I not to? Facing the pain always yields some nuggets of wisdom and insight. Showing up even when I don’t feel like it makes me vulnerable and real, just like you and everyone else. Digging past the ugly always reveals gems of beauty. Some of my darkest hours have given birth to my best and brightest work.
We’re all putting on public faces. We’re all editing our lives so we don’t scare people or make them think we’re crazy. At what price do we do this?
Bleed your truth today. Release what’s burning to be said. Your soul will thank you for it.
In her blog post are you a cup of tea…or a shot of tequila?, Justine Musk talks about what it takes to get your best creative work out there. I equate that with bleeding your truth because you’re “putting yourself out there — your beliefs and opinions, your work, your ideas, your pride, your ego, your feelings, your voice.” and showing that “… you’ve got skin in the game, which means you’re playing for real.”
It all boils down to two simple things:
- Are you living from the surface or from your deepest self?
- How long will you wait before you answer the call of your truth?
Well? Are you going to live for real, or are you going to keep pretending while dying inside? Your move.
Image credit: Karen Salmansohn
“It’s horrible. But it’s also beautiful. How, you ask? Because you’re a SURVIVOR. You’re still here. You can heal from it and cleanse it from your system. You can get help to work through the aftermath and feel whole again, feel safe again. You can turn that dark ugliness to beauty if you choose.”
Yes. It may be a dark, wounded beauty but it’s beauty just the same. And then you can reach out to others who survived the same thing.
Great post.
Justine! It’s an absolute honour to have you comment here! 😀 Thank you so much for reading.
True, dark beauty doesn’t get as much airplay as the shiny kind but it’s just as important. Our scars give us depth and experience, things we can’t really get if we don’t go through the ugly in life.
Hey Otiti,
Yes! I loved your quote, “Everything ugly can be made beautiful. Every ugly truth has some beauty in it. Only when you start can you transform it.” Beautiful and so true! Thank you for blessing us with your words! 😉
-Victor
Hi, Victor! Great to see you on here and thanks for adding your voice!
You’re welcome; it was my pleasure to lay my soul bare in this post. Walking my talk, y’know. 😉
Otiti: I decided to bleed the truth. I was tired of trying to be someone else I could never be and now I am fiinding happiness within myself. I have lost a lot of friends and it is not so easy to make new ones, but that is okay. I am not afraid to be alone. I think at one point I was afraid, but not anymore. I figure it was a blessing I got the fake friends out my life.
You’re exactly right, William. It’s better to have a few who accept you for who you truly are as opposed to many who haven’t a clue about the real you. It takes bravery to bleed your truth and I’m so glad you took that step for you. Many thanks for reading and commenting.