Hard Conversations

I’ve been thinking a lot about connection, about our natural desire to want to connect with someone and the vulnerability it takes to get there. I read Traveling with Pomegranates by Sue Monk Kidd and Ann Taylor Kidd recently and I haven’t really been able to get it out of my thoughts for a bit now. If you haven’t read it, the memoir alternates from the two women’s perspectives showing you a window into the lives of this mother/daughter duo. Sue, on the other side of 50 is struggling with her age, the changes her body is forcing her to go through, the future of her career, and of course, the disconnect she feels with her daughter. Ann, is 22 and fresh out of college, experiencing her first real loss by not being accepted into grad school and therefore questioning the future she planned for herself, she’s struggling with depression, and wanting to connect with her mother while simultaneously being afraid of disappointing her. It’s so easy to put yourself in these women’s shoes, but the thing that keeps me thinking about their story long after I finished the book, is how badly each one wanted to reach out and connect to the other. Sue knows that Ann is struggling but doesn’t know her place as a mother to a grown woman, and therefore is afraid to bring it up, waiting for Ann to make the first move. This is while Ann is terrified of her mom finding out about her depression, while secretly hoping that her mom will bring it up because she doesn’t know how to survive it. How many times do we all do this? I know I’ve done this more than I want to admit, especially since moving back home. So many aspects about this move have been hard and I’ve wanted to talk about it, but because I didn’t know how to explain how happy and sad I was at the same time (Kacey Musgraves gets that so right in her song) I was waiting for people to ask, and let’s be even more honest, I was waiting for them to keep asking because I probably wouldn’t have opened up on the first try. Why? Because I was scared, scared of being vulnerable, of saying “Hey this is actually a lot harder than I thought it was going to be,” scared of having people know that I don’t have all of the answers, scared of being rejected, scared of being dismissed. Damn, there’s so many reasons we give ourselves to not reach out, to not be vulnerable, when what we’re crying out for is that connection. It wasn’t easy to start being more open and honest with the people around me, but once I started, it became a little easier to breathe. I’ve been relating keeping emotions bottled up to that of a pressure cooker, you can keep that lid on really tight but eventually it’ll blow itself off, and that was my fear. My fear was what would happen if I kept my struggles to myself instead of sharing them with the people I love and trust most in this world. I was being like Sue and Ann, waiting for someone else to be brave and take the chance first instead of doing it myself. After finishing the book it was clear that they didn’t have the answers, and neither do I, no one can come up with a trick to make opening up to someone easier, all anyone can really say is that it’s worth it. I opened up to those around me and suddenly everything I had been carrying became easier to hold, because they were holding it with me. I’m sure you have a conversation you’ve been wanting to have, but haven’t because you’re scared of how it will go, I’m not here to tell you to just do it, your story is your own and it’s one I am not living. I’m here to tell you I understand, it’s hard and I’m proud of you either way, and if you take the chance to be vulnerable and open up to someone, know that I’m cheering you on all the way.