I’ve been working on a book for the past year and, for whatever reason, it dawned on me over the weekend that some might consider it a self-help book once released. And that scared the shit out of me. It’s full of truths I have learned along my life journey and lots of beautiful language - and a fair amount of cussing - but nowhere in it does it give practical advice on how to actually help yourself.
It’s a memoir to inspire, not a toolkit.
It’s an important distinction. So much so that I added a preface over the weekend saying exactly what I just said above, but with about one thousand extra words - including the words dildo, phallic and twat.
Because that's how I roll...
My bookshelves are full of books that promised a “better” me. In fact, right now I’m staring at a stack that promised me they could help me fix my finances, my ability to speak up, my memory, my business, my love language, my relationships, my Zen, my inner feminist, and my supremely fucked up relationship with food.
Most of them fell flat.
Why? Because my fear of money or inability speak up when I really needed to were merely symptoms of a larger affair… my inability to truly believe I deserved any of it. I have yet to find a single book so powerful that it could rewrite 40+ years of what I had been trained to believe about myself - that I wasn’t worthy of prosperity, love, kindness, self-love…
Irregardless of the author’s intent, these books could have never “fixed” me. I had to adjust my expectations. They were merely inspiration.
And inspiration is a big part of our journey. So is connection with others that are experiencing / have experienced the same. It’s the premise of the SheHive, in fact. But at it’s core, sustainable change only happened when I did the work to uncover the core beliefs I had about myself, how they were formed and how I could rewrite them.
I needed to do my work.
And my work included t-h-e-r-a-p-y. Lots and lots of therapy. Time spent with a trained professional who best understood the tools that could help me rewrite a story I had about myself that wasn’t, necessarily, all true.
That’s not to say that classes and books and time spent with other “lay people” who get it” isn’t important, because it absolutely is. But it’s just part of the equation.
Are you doing your work? If so, inspire your Hive and share your experiences in the comments below. What have the therapists and healers and counselors helped you to discover about yourself?