Pinky Promise

Sharing of myself through my blog can be a struggle for me when it comes to my personal life at times. People are often confused when they meet me and realize that I'm much more soft and shy than my fearless writing voice. I openly share myself here, but opening up face to face takes time for me. Takes trust. My writing is my art, it is an extension of me. My words are authentic, raw, they're real, but they are not all of me. If I was only my written word what a pithy story I would be. If I was just my status updates or my Instagram feed what a sad existence life would be. There's always more to the story.

There's also been a misconception with the Brave Babes Movement I've begun. My message is not to encourage us to open up our wounds and share publicly of ourselves to stifle the healing process, but to embolden our will to speak our truth as it speaks to us, together. Our healing and our validation must come from within, but when the shackles of our burden are unbolted by the eyes and compassion of others it is freeing and supportive. It restores our faith in humanity and encourages our willingness to overcome our struggles. It creates connection. It's awakening. It's beautiful. The authentic conversations I've had since this reveal have been some of the most meaningful I've ever had in my life. That's all I have room for anymore.

I've been questioned lately on whether or not it was the right thing to share my deepest darkest wound with the world. I've even been told by a particular friend that, "That was an insane thing for you to do making a video like that..." claiming that I have opened the door for more criticism and further abuse from internet bullying. I find this interpretation interesting because it seems that's what this person was doing by judging my decision. She said that when she watched my video she felt immense amounts of pain. That is not my goal and whatever comes up for people is their stuff, not mine. What we decide to do with our pain is each of our own individual and personal choice. I felt this person was trying to quiet my voice and put a muzzle on my truth. She claimed I had barely touched my wound and that I am too fragile to share of myself so vulnerably so soon, that I was seeking validation by making a video. I respect and appreciate her honesty, but I do not accept it. What I did was the most humble and authentic thing I've ever done and in turn I feel the strongest I've ever felt. It's also one of the things I'm most proud of. I know my message will reach who it needs to. I have no attachment to the outcome of this Movement.

I had been dancing around that wound for twenty years. Touching it slightly with just the tip of my pinky finger and then twirling my way back into the fear of what it would show me about myself. I've pushed people away. I've overanalyzed and doubted good hearted people. I've had a chip on my shoulder. Sexual abuse is not the only pain I've experienced in life, but it is one that after finally looking at it has made me understand myself the most deeply. I finally found the courage to look at it straight on, to turn the music off and step off the dance floor and into myself. I no longer merely tap this memory with my pinky finger. I've wrapped my pinky finger tightly around this pain, promised it, and I've stamped it with acceptance.

I hope you know my intentions are pure. I hope you feel my love through my words whether that's my writing voice or my speaking voice through my video I bravely shared with you. I am not my work, but I am Love and love is what I hope to inspire inside of you.

Genuinely, I Love you, pinky promise!

Kindra MurphyComment