Hi friends.
I got home at 2 a.m. Monday morning after spending the last few days with the 2022 cohort of The Futurist Project’s Leadership Institute, a 6-month development program for professionals in the outdoor industry. We had an intense 24 hours together sharing bits and pieces of our stories, crying, laughing, breathing, and being still in the Colorado Rockies. I am running on very little sleep this week, but I’m energized by the depth of the connections I made in such little time. If you’ve never experienced it before, I just want you to know that it’s possible to get past the small talk and into the juicy gossip of someone’s life (but in the most loving way)! The whole weekend I kept thinking about a This American Life episode famously titled, The Rundown, in which producer Starlee Kline maps out her system of “eliminating small talk forever.” It’s hilarious, somewhat instructional, and very worth a listen.
While I’m all for getting vulnerable with new people—it’s my job as a journalist to ask personal questions, for god's sake—I’ve noticed myself feeling more guarded with my own story the last few years. For context, I used to be an open book, even with strangers. With very little prompting, I could tell you about my latest surgery to remove one of my organs, the last time I cried and why, the addresses of all the places I’ve lived, and so on. I felt like there was nothing very sacred or special about those details because they’re just facts of life. We all go through stuff. Maybe if I shared, the other person would either find comfort in my humanness or feel more comfortable sharing their own details. If not, at least I was honest. I also think part of me wanted to feel deep connection as fast as possible, and if it meant sacrificing pieces of myself, it would be worth it.
After years of practicing this though, I’m changing my mind. It’s not always worth it. I don’t know if it’s age or turning even more inward during the pandemic or healing from hurt or just personal growth. Probably all of the above. Sometimes, I think, divulging big pieces of your story happens organically, and that’s OK. Like when a new neighbor and I bonded quickly over our family similarities, church experiences, and mental health struggles over wine and flatbread last year. But more and more, I’m learning that it’s valuable to save those talking points for later in a relationship. For when you trust the recipient will make space for holding your heart. And for when you’re in the right mindset to receive their story with just as much care. This concept may seem obvious to you, but for me, it’s been a long journey to getting here.
I’ve been sitting on privacy as a newsletter topic since December when I took an indefinite break from social media to let myself breathe after I received some blowback on a vulnerable essay. As someone with a goal of publishing more personal essays, I look at every life event as something that could be a topic for a story or inform my writing of a larger subject. I just do. I can’t help it. However, the harsh critique made me think long and hard about how I want to present myself in the future as an essayist and a human, where I want discourse to unfold (not on my personal social media), and what intentions are behind writing about something sensitive. I got some clarity on these categories during a recent Freelancing With Tim class on writing better personal essays. One of the panelists, Jessica Henriquez, said that because essays invite the world into your personal life, she wishes that earlier in her career she would’ve been more protective of parts of her life not open for judgement. The other panelist, Rax King, added that even though it feels good at first to attract readers with deep and dark things, you don’t have to let them all the way in; it’s smart to be careful about who you let get close to you.
Even though this advice applies specifically to essay writing, I also feel that it’s applicable to our in-person relationships, whether one on one or in a big group. There’s something to be said for thinking out loud or writing to unravel thoughts, as long as it’s in a trusted environment. But I don’t need to exploit myself for the sake of, well, anything. Part of our homework ahead of the leadership summit was to read Daring Greatly by Brené Brown. It’s a book about navigating vulnerability in a way that leads to transformation, not more hurt. In the section about oversharing, she writes, “I don’t tell stories or share vulnerabilities with the public until I’ve worked through them with the people I love. I have my own boundaries around what I share and what I don’t share and I stay mindful of my intentions.”
Intentions is the key word. Rather than looking at my collective story as a tool to relate to others or earn trust, I’m learning to value how moments in my life have shaped me and make me special. Not like, in an entitled way. But in a way that honors what I’ve been through, both the pains and the joys. To better protect myself, I’ve been using a few questions to gut check before I blurt something out before I’m ready:
Does this person deserve to know me in this exposed form?
Is this the right setting and space to divulge this information?
With Instagram, Twitter, and Substack at my fingertips, it’s easier than ever for me to overshare what I’m thinking, where I’m traveling, what I’m making, how I’m spending my days, etcetera. But I’m really loving saving even the little moments for just myself. It’s been good practice for determining whether or not I want to share the big stuff or if I need more time to sit with it. There’s plenty of other stuff I’ve worked through that I’m ready to share with whoever wants to dive beyond the small talk.
With love,
Amelia
P.S. Two weeks from now, I’ll be back with another interview with a fabulous female creative. See you then <3
Monthly Favorites
Listening: Many Times by Dijon; About You by G-Flip; Chicken Tenders by Dominic Fike; Whole House by Lolawolf
Making: The Camille Top by Makyla Creates
Writing: National Monuments to Visit in the West (Via Magazine); how Outdoor Retailer’s departure will impact Colorado (Elevation Outdoors); and more now that I’m back at my desk after a month of vacation
Exploring: The cutest boutiques in Portland, like Monochromatic and Wild Cactus
Reading: Next on my list is Woman of Light by Kali Fajardo-Anstine
Riding: I bought this new State gravel bike to ride around Portland
Eating: We tried the empanadas, burritos, and tacos at Mis Tacones the other night and we can’t stay away from Twisted Croissant