Dropping the Act
Week 1: Dropping the Act
The Act - the facade
According to Merriam-Webster: the principal face or front of a building; a false, superficial, or artificial appearance. Synonyms: mask, front, guise.
Kind of like secrets.
Most thoughts for me start with curiosity: Why do we feel the need to put up an act in the first place? To hide behind a facade, a front, a mask, a secret?
I would argue that most people put up an act for protection. At least that’s always been the case for me. It’s easier to hide who we truly are, or what we truly do, or what we really think, so that we’re not exposed and vulnerable to who other people actually are, and what they actually do, and what they actually think… about us.
No one wants to have that level of vulnerability out in the elements for our individual world to be picked apart and analysed, left up to the judgment of the one doing the looking.
So we put on an act. And we hold our most vulnerable truths to our chest.
Kind of like secrets.
I’m not a Florida girl, by any stretch. Palm trees still fascinate me. The access to clear, blue water and soft sand still amazes. I am not that pressed over Publix.
But the clouds. The clouds give me pause.
It was the first thing I noticed 10 years ago, hopping out of a moving truck after a 21-hour drive. Not the weather on a sticky August day. Not the stretch my legs needed after driving straight across the Eastern Seaboard.
But the clouds.
Thick. Low. Heavy.
Kind of like secrets.
As much as we like to think our secrets are tucked well behind the veneer of our act, they’re probably sitting a lot closer to the surface than we realize. Thick, low, and heavy. Ready to pour at any time.
Everyone talks about the calm before the storm.
It’s probably a writer’s favorite idiom and culture’s favorite way to explain what was, while living through what is. We’ve all known peace before chaos. And even if the average person hasn’t experienced coming out of the grocery store at 2 pm and getting caught in a thunderstorm so bad they check to see if hurricane season started early, the average person has been caught outside without an umbrella on the rainiest of days. They’ve looked up one day and wondered how they found themselves in some mess.
And here’s the thing: the older I get in my journey through life, the more I can appreciate a rainy day. While getting caught without an umbrella is certainly not always fun, it’s not the end of the world. I’m starting to understand what the elders meant when they stare out the window on a downpour and declare, “We needed this.” Because to some degree we do. Rain brings relief, and a much-needed cleanse… especially if it hasn’t rained in a while.
Kind of like secrets sitting at the surface.
Thick. Low. and Heavy. Waiting to be released.
When’s the last time you were truly authentic with someone? I mean, really authentic? When the messy truth came out, even when it was a little embarrassing to say out loud. When you were honest to the point of discomfort with a friend, or even yourself. When exposed, depending on how severe, may have felt like a storm.
At some point, the act has to be dropped, and the secrets have to pour, and I pray that if and when it happens, you’ve built a strong community worth pouring your secrets into. A community that you don’t have to question who they truly are, what they really do, and what they really think because they’ve shown, no, really, they’ve proven to you, that they’re a safe place to land.
And when the act is dropped, when you get to the point where it’s going to be, whatever it’s going to be, and that’s okay. When you get to the point where you stop caring about the opinions of others, and live in a state of contentment with the decisions you’ve made, and trust in your ability to make decisions in the future. Man, what a feeling.
I am not here to say that’s easy, but I will declare it’s worth it. Because secrets that sit at the surface, thick, low, and heavy, ready to be released, are just the illusion of the calm before the storm. Because trust me, baby, some days, it will feel like a storm. And while the release may feel chaotic and scary, in the moment, I pray you feel that relief and the cleanse, and a connection to the phrase, “I needed this.”