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October 31, 2013

I’m Coming Out. ~ Lesley Stedmon

I’m coming out.

I have a secret to share—one that has been weighing me down and holding me back from entering into my greatness and excellence.

I am coming out. I am emerging from my fear. This fear has dictated my life and my relationships, and it’s all mine. After 38 years of hiding behind it, fear has been given an eviction notice.

The shift started last week as I sat with my husband late one Wednesday night.

I said, “I have a secret to tell you.”

His eyes were welcoming and concerned, giving me permission to keep going.

“My secret is that I operate from a place of fear every day—fear of success, fear of failure, fear of my truth and how powerful it is (so much so that I may not be able to stand it).

It manifests as a force; an energy that visits me at night and churns up my doubts and insecurities for the day ahead.” I said, “It’s time to let it go because it’s exhausting being scared all the time.”

So he left me to my devices and I got out my sage to smudge myself and my room of my fear—every dark corner, every hiding spot, every inch was cleansed.

After opening up my sliding door to the frigid air, I declared “It is time for you to go now.”

I stood there for a good 10 minutes and knew the instant that it left.

The instant.

The fear, the weight, the sadness—all gone.

Scary? Yes.

Necessary? Yes.

Optional? No.

Giving away power of any kind is exhausting. I could not have done it without my supports in place; my husband, my family, my best girls, my coaches, my mastermind and my team.

When I realized I was not alone, I stepped into the light and embraced my greatness, my success: me.

Being surrounded by fabulous women brings out my light. It evokes the truth of who I am.

I allowed my desire to spring forth. I owned it, and now it’s mine; all the passion, expansiveness, worthiness, clarity and vibrancy. All mine.

I sit here emotionally naked and vulnerable and it’s shit scary, but necessary. It is different his time.

The anticipation of future triumph and success prevents me from turning around to once again be guided by my past.

Just to cement the release, the expansion and emergence, I feel a calling to burn my old journals. I had kept them to reference just how much progress I had made in my life. The last review revealed I had been essentially writing the same thing over and over for 20 years; that I need to be heard.

“Please listen,” written over and over again; and my call, unheeded.

Ignored and deferred, looked over by the most important people in my life, my calls went unheard—so I grew louder, thinking I would be. No.

It was the unspoken rule and the only acceptable response to upset: we seethed and swallowed our rage, essentially ignoring its message and power. My growing anger, acting out, and rage always met with judgment, shame, dismissal, and just a phase; with nothing.

Silence. It was deafening.

Did I matter?

In retrospect, I let not being heard define me, my actions, and the voice in my head was mine—no one else’s.

Sitting in my emotional nakedness, I am struck with expansion into what I can become; struck by communion, and clarity of who I truly am.

I am also exhausted by the releasing of toxic emotional residue, clogging my body with guilt and shame and fear about how success looked—and it certainly was not anything akin to anything I resembled.

The fire burns hot as I manipulate my hands on the soft leather of my journals for the last time, before they become ash. Some burn hotter than others as the emotionally charged writing of a dismissed child escapes from the pages.

Done.

Some burst into flames whit others are a slow steady burn.

I revel in the drama unfolding in my little wood stove, and my words springing forth onto this page. The wisdom of my body (long ignored) has kicked in with a kick-ass case of laryngitis; deeming me incapable of speaking.

Coincidence?

I think not.

This is my release and the evocation of my truth; the light, and the heat evokes my light and passion as I emerge from it exquisitely, beautiful, disarmed and of service as me.

It was a process of purification and of celebration; to destroy old messages and musings was to create space for me and my musings—my truth; a space to lean in to passion, and true intimate connection.

Today my success is defined by my truth and my passion. Every choice I make is based on how it resonates in my body, my heart, intuitively. Sometimes my decisions have no language; they just know.

I am rewarding myself for trusting my intuition, and in just one week I have seen enormous prosperity and abundance in my life, my relationship, my children and my business.

I needed to step into my greatness in order to see the rewards. In order to be heard, I needed to listen; to myself, my intuition and my family by deconstructing  messages and filtering them through love—pure and simple.

What an honor it is to be me.

Me.

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Assistant Ed: Kathryn Ashworth / Ed: Catherine Monkman

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