Every time I step onto a stage I have to forgive myself.
I forgive myself for breaking so many rules, like:
- Be quiet.
- Stay small.
- Swallow your truth to spare other's feelings.
- Look good.
- Make us look good.
- Stay positive.
I forgive myself for not being able to control what others feel, whether they agree or not, whether or not I am understood.
I forgive myself for decades of jaw-clenching to hold my words inside. For the way my throat still tightens and catches, making my voice break when I wish it was pouring out uninterrupted and free.
I forgive myself for forgetting how to forget myself and be natural, for needing to practice, to remember.
I forgive myself for wanting to be good, to get it right, to have my words tight and dialed in.
And I forgive myself for fumbling and for stumbling as I try to let it all go. As I try to surrender.
Join us for an intimate night of stories (no stage) tomorrow night at Park Slope Ale House (7:30pm, no cover). I'll be with one of my favorite people in the world, Jolie Guillebeau, whose stories are better than mine. You'll get to see what we've been up to together, live and in person. Tell us you're coming and we'll save a spot for you.
More on Finding Your Voice here.