I have a friend who is going through a rather difficult relationship transition. I listened quietly as she traced over the contours of her ten-year relationship, trying to find signs of where things might have changed. A recent conversation with her partner revealed problems that have been simmering under the surface for quite some time.

“Problems” that, while surprising to my friend, were somewhat obvious for her partner.

“I have always opened my heart and asked for honesty,” she said, quietly. “I thought we had that understanding, but apparently I was misguided. How did I miss this?” she asked me.

How do we miss these things? Things that make up the very foundation of relationships occupying the majority of our lives?

I was reminded of myself in my own marriage. I tried to be honest about my feelings, but try as I might to coax the words from their hiding place in my heart, I came up short more often than not, fearing the repercussions of rocking the boat, or making myself vulnerable to criticism and rejection.

Instead, I told half-truths, watered down versions of what was going on in my emotional landscape. For the most part, my strategy kept the peace, and “things” afloat. Perhaps my subconscious knew there was a good reason for not feeling safe about sharing my feelings.

I wasn’t trying to be dishonest, but I see now that I did not have the capacity to face the truth that was desperately asking to be seen.

Is my friend’s partner telling these same half-truths to keep the peace, or to merely to give himself the time to find his way to being able to speak the words out loud?

I can look back upon my old self, the half-truth telling one, with an expansive and tender curiosity now. This is new for me, not something I could have done a few years ago when my inner critic reigned supreme. I have been able to create space between that “me,” and the other me – the one that is flawed and imperfect and so, beautifully human, just like you.

I adore that human now, the one that lies in my bed, breathing deeply into my daily sorrows or joys, one breath at a time. This human is one I can inhabit fully, without the disgust and judgment of the past. This human is one that fills my heart so full that, on some days, I feel it might burst.

This is a human who feels sadness fully, joy intensely, and loves unconditionally.

I think we must eventually engage in the mighty surrender, a moment, or series of moments, when we simply lay down our arms against ourselves and say:

“This is what I know to be good and beautiful and noble and pure and true. This is a moment when I am going to embrace what I know deep in my heart – and stand with that truth instead of running away.”

That is the face of mighty surrender, which is easier said than done.

When I look at the pain on my friend’s face, a result of thinking she was living in congruence with someone else’s truth, but finding otherwise, I realize that there is no easy in this life.

Easy is unobtainable, surrender is. I don’t mean give up. I mean own what you know, and within that very simple act, understand that you become a force to be reckoned with in this world.

Where can you surrender to what you know and stand with yourself?

xo

–db

Who is Dianna Bonny?

Hi, my name is Dianna Bonny. It’s my mission to candidly share my journey with you. For me, it’s all about the healing: to create a radiant healing energy for others who have befallen a similar fate. Together, we can forge beautiful lives of belonging and connection. Thanks for joining me today! I look forward to hearing from you.