BONUS: Can I Share my Soul with You?

Nikki’s Bonus Blog Post, B8

This is the companion post to Bonus Episode 8 of the podcast, Shelley Redux. If you haven't listened yet, head there first — then come back here for everything I was still thinking about after we stopped recording and in my listen back.

The fundamental question I want to ask Shelley is, can I reveal myself to you and find acceptance? Can we share aspects of ourselves beyond our presentation that impart more of our soul than our body and retain our humanity? Or will you peel back layers of your protection only to thrust a blade through our middle, slice us into pieces, and dismiss our pain as wrought with victimhood? 

Shelley approached as a person that wanted to be a friend. But, when Em asked what I would want to ask her today, I boil it down to, are you an asshole? Really what that means in a deeper way is, am I seen? 

And being seen is just the first phase of belonging, because more than being seen, is being understood, and being accepted. To present yourself in a water down way is often felt to be a kindness to others. I’ve been told by many that I am too much, that I have high standards, that I am judgemental. 

I don’t deny that I am a lot, we all are. We’re all bags of bones and flesh, holding shape and making our way through the chaotic track of life, marred with capitalism and a lack of empathy. We all carry the worst things that have happened, we all have something about ourselves that we’d rather hide. 

What connection offers is an opportunity to simply be. And with the right people, you can slowly reveal all the best and worst parts of yourself and find acceptance regardless. Relationships should be a give and take, full of negotiations and conflict, finding opportunities to adapt to each other’s needs, have each other’s back, and walk this road together. 

When Shelley approached us, we gave her the benefit of the doubt. We allowed a stranger into our personal space and shared some of the limited breaths we have in this life with her. We couldn’t at the time articulate ourselves in ways that might make sense. 

I often have big feelings that take time to decode. I wonder now if Shelley would listen to how her words landed, and the ways that I adapt to my surroundings. I wonder if I had been honest and vulnerable with her if she would have met me with kindness, seen me and accepted me anyway. I like to think she would have.