I was scrolling on facebook today and came across this quote. There is a significance to this sentiment that I’d like to delve into deeper than what lies on its surface.

“Promise me not to hide yourself when you’re in pain, it’s unfair that we laughed together but you cried alone.”

(unknown)

On the surface, I found myself nodding; the writer in me loving the chosen words in their chosen places; the poet in me loving the cadence of the sentence; the empath in me loving the validation I felt as I read it. Then I read it again. And again. And each time I read it, the words in their places took me to deeper places, their cadence echoing, deeper and deeper into my core.

For me, this quote speaks of presence. CHOSEN presence. Life’s reality is that it takes effort to be present in another’s life. To invest, to care, to connect. To laugh and celebrate another’s light-filled mountaintops but also to sit, side-by-side, among the damp, shadowy, overgrown forest of the valley where the light struggles to shine. 


I think this quote hits a chord with me because recently I’ve been told that my writings about my cancer story have been too much and have been too dark….. the individual(s) saying they’ve had to stop reading because it was just too hard to keep reading. 

I hear this and on my behalf but also on the behalf of everyone else out there processing and sharing their story:

☝🏼Understanding and awareness comes from the WHOLE story.
(It is on purpose that I authentically express my story, that I vulnerably share my dark moments, that I choose to bare the truth without giving in to the pressure to soften it with butterflies and tulips. It is on purpose that I use words to accurately reflect the difficult road I walk. I do so to create awareness. I do so to offer perspective. I do so to foster empathy. I do so to process my story and to get it out instead of stuff it down.)
Why? Because the stories matter. 

And

✌🏼Ok. Stop reading. You absolutely have that option.
(Personally, I don’t hold any expectations that anyone reads everything I ever write any or all of the time. I don’t write for sympathy. I don’t write for attention. I don’t write for pats on the back or glowing reviews of my writing style. Those things are nice bonuses, I’ll humanly admit that, but they are never my motivation.)
Bear something in mind, though – when you stop reading, you also stop trying to understand. 


There is a beautiful relationship that happens between humans who are willing to connect inside of their stories, seeing all parts as valuable, taking the totality of the story with the person telling it. In this relationship, connection brings empathy and respect, love and genuine care. In this connection, mutual influence and change and camaraderie occur. Each learning from the other to enhance their experiences, to celebrate the wins together, to purpose what each has lost, and to honor the expanse of the process.

The hard truth: When ‘reading’ stops because it gets too hard, that translates to, “I’ll care about you when your ‘writings’ don’t hurt me.” It puts conditions on connection and empathy and respect and love. And the kicker – when understanding stops, so does influence and camaraderie. A distance must occur in the connection. The relationship relegated to the surface. 


I appreciate this quote because in it lies an invitation:

“Promise me not to hide yourself when you’re in pain: I’m here, and trust that I’ll remain….., it’s unfair: to yourself to go un-seen, to me because I want to see you, to us because together we are love……that we laughed together but you cried alone: give us a chance to do both and from that, we can go to incredible places together.”

(bolded text is my personal interpretation)

Gratefully, I have a small but deeply cherished handful of people that not only laugh with me when things are grand, but together, we cry when things are not. People that don’t hide from me and where I don’t feel I have to hide from. People who will keep reading, even when the words are hard and they hurt, because the words matter. I matter. We matter.

I’ll leave you with this thought: In no way am I suggesting that every single relationship you have in your life has to look like this. That said, there is important pause and potential benefit by considering how this quote might challenge you and how it could change your relationships. 🫶🏼


2 Thoughts on “Chosen Presence

  1. Yes. Difficult but to understand we do have to read the dark ad well as glimmers of sun. We take life for granted until we have to face the dark and THIS is hard. You are correct and those who say this of your writings wriggle with the uncomfortabless of the truth. Keep writing even if in the end it may be a few that read.

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