#458 – When will you stop hiding in plain sight?

One instinctive response to feeling in danger is to hide. If you felt in danger a lot growing up it's only natural that you still revert to hiding when things feel iffy.

On a call yesterday, I told one of my accountability partners about my life back in Spain. On paper it looked so awesome and rewarding. A well-known and sought-after leader in my profession, I was showcased often as an expert on TV and radio talk shows. I trained and coached people in high places, some famous singers even lied about having trained their voices with me to refer me as "the best" (when they hadn't).

My friend was surprised by what looked like a step down: in comparison, my current life seemed so "low-profile." I perceived a sad expression when she said, "so different than your life here, huh?"

Yes, different. But was it "better?"

As I articulated an answer, I realized what had been missing from that seemingly ideal life: I wasn't being the real me. I was hiding behind an "expert" mask. At the same time, I was gagging my "inside poet."

I've always felt like a poet inside: head in the clouds, feet also floating. But to the world, I didn't show that part. Because it felt dangerous.

Being real had made me suffer before: my father called me "corny" and laughed at my dreams of becoming a ballerina, my (likely very corny) poems, my easy tears––of joy, of sadness, of pain. So I'd shoved that poet part somewhere it wouldn't be found.

From the outside, I was the picture of success, fully self-actualized. Inside, I was just barricading the door with desks and bookshelves so that part wouldn't come out.

I was hiding my true self behind a very public outward-facing self, created only for protection.

What part of you might be hiding in plain sight?

Love,

Carolina