Standing naked before the crowd? Or a slow striptease?

My friend Rheem and I had an open honest conversation about friends.  How hard it is to develop new, deep, friendships when life changes and you find yourself alone and starting over.  It's hard for many reasons- you don't have kids to bond over, or their events to plan for, or share the daily trials and tribulations of school projects, dance recitals and soccer matches to discuss and lament.  Instead, when you're 50 (or more) and find yourself divorced and needing a new "go to, puts up with your quirks, do anything with" best friend, it's really hard to find your tribe much less your person. They are camouflaged with layers of life and stay in the shadows lest they become prey one last time.  The tribe has dispersed into family clusters and villages where the paths have become overgrown after decades of unuse and of course, the ex got the machete in the divorce.

It's hard.

Damn hard.

So Rheem and I took a blood oath (or was it a champagne toast) at a swanky club in London to find our tribe.  To make new friends.  To blaze the trail.

Almost two years later, I've had some success.

I met my new friend Carol who sat on a bench everyday along my dog walking route.  She introduced me to Ann, Kym, Carol, and Karen.  My new friend Victoria is a colleague going through her own stuff, looking for her tribe too.  Deborah sits next to me at the theater where I bought a single season ticket and now meet her before every show.  Angie and Cherie and Lenka and Valerie and Patty joined the book/movie club I started.  And the best part of living in an apartment building is all the wonderful neighbors and staff that I chat with every day.

I've also had some failures.

I've lost a couple friends this year for a myriad of reasons,  which I'm not ready to talk about.

Which brings me to my lesson...

While I have gained friends, and we chit chat like town women in Music Man, they're not yet the deep, tell everything to, cry with, laugh with, curse with, sing with kind of friends.  I care deeply about them, and I see them often.  But they haven't seen me.  Not really seen me.  Not seen my soul.

And that's on me.

If I only show folks part of me,  one dimension (and not even the same dimension for each) can I really be part of this tribe? Or am I simply traveling on a visa, living on the fringe, just that tiniest bit an intruder?

Brene Brown says, "... true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world..."

Now that my (hopefully) friends, is scary.

Frightening.

Petrifying.

Jordan and I were talking one day after attending a funeral.  I had to admit that at my funeral, during each portion of the eulogy there would be many people saying "I never knew that"  "Really?"  "I never saw that side of her."  There is not one person on this planet who knows me.  Really, really, really knows me.

"...our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”

Self acceptance leads to vulnerability.  Or is it vulnerability leads to self acceptance? Or is it enough to acknowledge they walk hand in hand?

How do I start?  How do I practice being vulnerable?

Everything starts with a good story, right?

So if I start talking, sharing my story, maybe my tribe will hear me as my vibe goes out into the world and like echolocation of whales and dolphins, we will find each other.  I will find my tribe.  My tribe will find me.  I will find my person.  My person will find me.

So here I am.... writing it down.

And I'm out there, telling my story.  First time at RAW.  Then again.  Then Fort Lauderdale Story Slam.  And City Speaks.  And if the fates allow, one day at The Moth.  Live, true storytelling is standing on stage exposed.  Naked  if I let me.  For now, I'm keeping the stories as powerful as I can but safe in a way too.  Not too much me yet, but maybe I can strip off a layer at a time until like a seasoned burlesque star that last piece of protection will come off with joyful abandon and my soul will stand free.

In the meantime, I am trying to post the audio links to the storytelling I've done here on this blog.  All uncut and grainy and unedited in hopes that my tribe sees me and hears me and hugs me and calls me their own.  But I'm having some technical challenges, so if you'd like to hear them, post a comment or send me your email and I'll send them to you.

Learning to strip.  Learning to be naked.  Learning to be authentic.  Learning to be vulnerable.  Learning to belong.

https://youtu.be/PYE-fcGf2FI