Being Honest
On speaking up: the beauty and battle of conflict
Do you ever have those seasons in your life where you have to muster up the same type of courage repeatedly? Or, you get hurt in the same way but by different people? It’s like the one thing you are trying to heal from gets reopened from different angles. Well, that’s what it’s been like for me. It’s been a hard few weeks and I haven’t quite come up for air.
The breeze carrying lilac scent is floating through my window below a day of clouds. Like a healing salve to my beaten up heart it speaks to me. It’s softness is in direct contrast to what I am feeling as of late. I’ve been using my voice in so many circumstances, it has been unearthing. Selena Williams in an article from 2018, states “standing up for yourself will never be easy, especially in the world we live in. It will always eventually be respected.”
And so I lean in to raise my voice so that one day, my daughter won’t have to raise hers so loud. So that the next time a speech is given from a pulpit everyone is honored. So the next time a bully thinks they can diminish another human being, they pause. So that the next time someone lies, they realize they aren’t fooling anyone. I’ll be honest, sometimes speaking up works and you can see that change is afoot. Sometimes, it goes no where and causes a great divide. And sometimes, you leave a little worse for the wear.
Confronting someone in leadership makes my stomach churn, but I was so thankful to find they were able to listen and apologize. Not only that but they tried to understand where I was coming from, so that they wouldn’t make the same mistake next time. This willingness to participate in a hard conversation showed me the beauty that can be in conflict. The thing is, even though I made the phone call, I knew I could trust this person.
By their life I could tell that they were interested in growth. I knew I could go to them with my concern and have a healthy conversation; and what bothered me at first, melted quickly as compassion fell all over both of us. I left our conversation feeling purposeful, my perspective had wisdom to consider. And I ended it with encouragement in this keep going and pressing in attitude. So much good bubbled up, which I knew would bring closeness and change. I found beauty there, sitting right at the top.
Not a few days later I got a text that falls into the category of relentless slandering from someone else. I tried not to react to the hits and instead respond with an unattached truth - let’s seek to find common ground and understanding. The boundaries I presented in which I would engage or not engage, I thought were healthy. Quickly, I was reminded that bullies don’t like strength. And honesty is strength. More words came with more brutality. The lashes became intentional to goad me into pain. What happens when the receiver knows these tricks because she’s been here before? She can withstand it for awhile and the words roll off her bones. She speaks without the attacks permeating under her skin.
It’s something that has enlightened my experience as of late, this power of exchanging without expectation. But try as I might the minced words, assumptions and insults permeated; it ruined my walk, it took over my thoughts, it shut down my afternoon and then my day. I lost joy and it lingers, winding itself around our relationship. Isn’t that sad? So much dishonor in the exchange left me with nothing else, but a pressing down of life in the middle of this conflict. I put it away, because I had to let it go.
Unfortunately for most bullies, there is a deaf ear to compassion and our words won’t make a dent. So we have to realize when it’s important to stand up for yourself and when to ignore the punches, because the puncher won’t change. I am still learning this. So next time I’ll remember to ignore the trap that is cloaked in conversation. It’s a Trojan horse and my heart has grown weary of toxic surprises. I will continue to be honest about my experience, but I will also weigh the value of engaging with open ears versus closed ones I cannot trust.
And then there are times when the conflict is coming from yourself. I was stuck in a situation where there was really no right answer. So much gray. Have you ever been there before? Here I am mustering up the courage of what I thought needed to be said and although I was being honest, I was not being empathetic. I was acting out of pain, not what was in the best interest of the other person.
Have you ever been hurt and wanted to share it with the person who hurt you? Or, you see someone making scary choices and you just have to speak up? But what if they don’t have the capacity to consider your pain? What if they don’t have the capability to understand your speaking up because their defenses are too high? What if the timing surrounding the circumstance isn’t great? What if the relationship is just too vulnerable? Well, that’s also where I found myself, stuck in an already sticky situation holding the glue.
Later I realized I wanted compassion from this person who wasn’t in a place to give it. I’ve carried regret heavily, knowing it wasn’t the kindest thing for me to do in the moment-that I was actually thinking of myself in my speaking up. Underneath it all was a hope for healing, but my words were not met with understanding and created more pain instead. I apologized but I still feel unsettled, like I had caused a rift with someone who is in need of my help.
And yet there is still another unspoken truth to tell. One that’s in the back of my mind. One that could go terribly wrong or terribly well. It’s been sitting their hurting me for awhile, but I haven’t rebounded from the masquerade of turmoil recently to do anything with it yet. I’m still figuring out, if it will be worth the summoning of courage. I know that there is fruit from conflict, I’ve experienced it. I know that there can be pain. I know that there can be regret. And so I sit with it in my hand like marbles rolling around waiting to be played.
Relationships are complicated and conflict is a part of them. Conflict can be healthy and it can be difficult. It can bring life and it can bring hardship. But relationships are even harder when we pretend to be okay with the un-okay things. When we hold back our truth and don’t share our sorrow, we are not maintaining or gaining anything. Because then the relationship we risk losing, is the one we have with ourselves.
I have found the older I get the less I want to pretend. The less I want to fit into some box or stretch myself to be someone I am not. The less I am able to carry on as if insults, unhealthy communication, sexist jokes, political conversation traps and victimization are allowed. And I am sick of people treating others like they don’t matter. Or making jokes at another’s expense. Or just plain old pretending that poor actions don’t effect anyone.
The more honest we become the more pain points we hit, because I am not sure others are ready for honesty. I’m not sure they can handle not pretending. We will never grow forward though, or become deeply connected, if we aren’t honest about our experiences. And honest about our lives. What is at stake is our hearts, our needs, our joy and our health.
When someone has crossed a line you can usually feel it in your bones. Your gut reacts and your heart skips, your blood floods through your body and you can feel the resistance in your nerves. It’s because there is a high value to you, the other person has disrespected.When someone doesn’t respect one of your highest values, it’s a little hard to see straight.
It takes a little digging to find out what is beneath all the feelings. Once you’ve realized what that value is and the line that has been crossed, it’s time to be honest. Making people in your life aware of what’s okay with you and what’s not, is a responsibility we all carry.
When you speak up you pave the way to freedom for others in their wake.
Listen, I get it. I can’t stand conflict…I want to runaway into the Shire and go in my hobbit house and sit by the fire, read, and pretend that there is nothing wrong with the world. But that pain, that truth, that speaking up…it’s gotta come out. It will come out other ways if we don’t approach it and give it a place to land. Now I know I’ve just written how I’ve been a little bloodied up from the honesty battle, so I realize this isn’t the most motivational speech. I’m sharing it because I’m tired of carrying the torch by myself. If we all carry a little light, then some of us won’t have to hold up the hot burning sun.
Let’s be wise, though. Understand if the ground is fertile soil or unable to be tilled. Does the person want to grow and stretch to understanding? Or do they want to spread weeds wherever they can? Those weeds will take over your heart, love, so be careful. And take a look at their stem, are they a wilted flower that’s been in the sun too long? Have they been pounded by the rain and half bent over already? If so, they might not be able to handle anything more than what they’ve got in front of them. It might not be the right season for your truth.
It’s not the easiest thing to figure out and I really dislike all the feelings that go with conflict. However, the results to me feel like treasure I was meant to have. This honesty, it is allowing me to become freer and healthier. I am taking up a little more space than I did before. I am telling myself that I matter. The more I am real, the less trying to please, and the more honest I become; the more I can feel myself present and whole. No less important than anyone else. No more important either. Just fully aware and fully present. All of us teachers.
Knowing I am not always right. And, knowing what’s right for me might not be right for someone else. But knowing my knowing, and honoring it, is starting to become my highest value. And it might be one I just won’t cross anymore. It might be, the tree in the ground I decide to hold up because I know it will bear the truest of fruit.
And I think it’s worth it. The fruit of honesty, the fruit of speaking up, the fruit of honoring yourself and others with your truest experience. I know there will be bad fruit. There will be good fruit. And there will be fruit that wasn’t ripe for the picking. But if it all comes from this trunk of salvation and deepness of honoring our hearts, it’s still fruit. It’s the kind of fruit I want to bare in the relationships in my life. Most of all, it’s the fruit I want for myself.
