authentic — Blog — rebekah ruth

Remember that one time when March of 2020 hit and everything went insane? Remember how Covid broke time? It kind of feels like that TV show, Manifest, where an entire plane full of people take off in one year and when they land—what seems to them like a few hours later—five years have passed! (Prophetic, really, considering it came out in 2018.)

While obviously not in the literal sense, I kind of feel like those passengers. I feel like 2019 happened and then ergojio%lsjkeare^ roerj@oeroe;fefoi !gpoerie}rpogm*reoitp happened and then I woke up and it was today. In reality, a lot has happened in my life since 2020:

I started and—a year later—ended a podcast. (Absolutely loved doing this but logistics overruled desire when both my co-host and I moved to different states.)
Three of our four young adult kids moved out (all six of us were quarantined together in the house they grew up in…hmmm…wonder if that had anything to do with everyone moving to different states? ;)
I built a home studio and became an audiobook narrator then dismantled said studio because we decided we were done living in NY and we needed to put the house up for sale. (We loved raising our kids in Buffalo but the combination of my extreme disgust with winter and my husband’s extreme disgust with NY politics meant it was time to go! )
We went under contract on a new construction home in St. Augustine, FL which was supposed to be ready in August, 2021. (Spoiler Alert: it was done in April, 2022.)
We moved to Florida but since our house was massively delayed, we ended up putting our Buffalo house up as an Airbnb for a year and it did shockingly well for a suburban home in a very residential area.
I worked at a medical cannabis dispensary for a few months, and learned a lot about a topic I’m fascinated by.
Our youngest graduated high-school and started college this year.

So it’s not like nothing was happening over the last three years. I actually made some really massive changes in my life. But it’s all felt muted and cloudy. Like I’ve been existing in my iPhone’s Low Power Mode. I’ve been present and I’ve been living but constantly in danger of burning out and not all my regular features were available.

See, I’m a very empathetic person. I don’t just notice the emotions in the room. I feel them. Which means all the trauma that has been happening in our country, and around the world, and all the division it has caused has been especially heavy for me. It felt like the entire world was screaming at each other and I was standing in the middle trying to make sense of it all.

In order to stay sane, I think I turned the volume of the world down as much as I possibly could. I went into a sort of stasis of emotion where I knew what was going on but I couldn’t engage too much. I wrote in my journal recently that I feel like I’ve been in an emotional fetal position for a few years and I’m just now stretching out my limbs and getting back on my feet. And this is probably why it feels like I got on a plane and when I landed, years had passed.

Yesterday was my 51st birthday, and as I looked at all the lovely birthday messages on my Facebook feed, I realized I’ve missed people. I’ve intentionally stayed off Facebook as much as possible because it was so vicious for a time. But I found myself taking a second to think about each one of those people who wished me happy birthday, and being thankful for having them in my life. Connection is a vital emotional nutrient, necessary for humans to thrive and by protecting myself from the loud emotions of the world, I’ve unintentionally starved myself.

I didn’t exactly notice my emotional emaciation because I spent most of my free time reading novels so I didn’t have to think about difficult things. A bookclub friend gave me a bookmark yesterday and I’m sure she has no idea how accurate it really was for me. It reads, “I just want to read my books and ignore all of my adult problems.” How did she know? This is exactly how I’ve been coping. But I’m aware that it’s not a long-term, sustainable solution. (Although it’s tempting to try. I do LOVE to read!)

In addition to cutting myself off from all the riotous emotions colliding in the ether, I also muted my own voice. I stopped writing for a time. I rarely said what I thought about anything, in a public forum. And I’ve avoided discussions that had any potential for conflict. It’s always been difficult for me to have strong opinions. I’m a peace-maker at heart and harmony in my environment is a daily aspiration. (If you’re an enneagram aficionado, you can probably guess that I’m an Ennea9.)

Strong opinions feel dangerous because they could cause conflict. What if what I want clashes with what a loved-one wants? Well, I don’t like conflict so it’s obvious. Just give the loved-one what they want. It’s much easier to acquiesce and be happy about it than it is to dig down, figure out what I truly want, and be willing and able to stand in my convictions—without caving in order to eliminate any possible strife.

But I’m not willing to live that way anymore. I’m re-engaging in the world, I’m taking myself off of mute and I’m writing a book that is the equivalent of immersion therapy (where you face your fears on a continual basis until they no longer seem so scary). This book is a departure from my past writing. It’s not a novel, but a memoir of sorts. It’s the story of a recovering people-pleaser learning how to live authentically in a world obsessed with filters, feeds, and follower counts.

As people in society self-censor more and more, I’m writing a book in which I say what I think about everything. I’m talking about all the things we’re not supposed to talk about: Sex, Drugs, Marriage, Politics, Religion and more.

This. Feels. Terrifying.

For the most part, I’ve spent my whole life being able to get along with almost everyone because I don’t rock boats and I don’t take stands. In many ways, this has served me well. But I don’t think it fits me anymore. I think it’s time to lean into authenticity and let the chips fall where they may. I’d rather live an authentic life with a few friends than be liked by everyone but known by no-one—having little to no impact on the world around me.

I’ve got some heavy writing to do. I have no idea where this journey will take me but I intend to enjoy the ride. And my sincerest hope is that me being real, raw, and authentic will inspire others to do the same. Stay tuned.