A man whom I greatly admire once asked me and the crowd that surrounded us who our favorite teacher was. As we thought about it, he started to say, “I bet it was the one who was good at telling stories.” As soon as he said that, rounds of yeses were silently spoken in head-nods and nostalgic smiles.

As the question lingered in my mind for some time, I realized that there have been so many people who have not just shared a good story with me but who have shared their story with me. ‘Til this day, they have left a mark on my heart.

But what about my own?

The initial thought of sharing did not cross my mind as worthwhile. Why would I share my struggles if I would just end up being judged for it? Or worse, if I do, would anyone actually care? It wasn’t until I encountered real, vulnerable individuals who were courageous in sharing a glimpse of their lives-- where they had a breakdown, and God showed up, and led them to their breakthrough-- that I was inspired to do the same.

But oh, to be vulnerable is so, so hard! But that's precisely why it's good. It challenges me to come out of myself. Silence does not keep me safe or protect me as I have erroneously believed.

Sometimes we can be so out of touch with our reality or with the ability to see God throughout the history of our lives. Maybe there are some stories that we would prefer to forget, painful memories where we think God was absent from and we cannot see any good there. When I feel this way, I’ve found new perspective by praying with the words, “Lord, show me where you were when this happened to me” and He has. He has been with me through it all.

It says in Revelations 12:11 that “the enemy was defeated by the blood of the lamb and by the word of their testimony.” Jesus has already shed his blood, now it is up to us to share our story.

Your past is not the enemy. I urge you sisters, to speak truth over that shame of what was done to you or by you. Proclaim the victory that is already yours. Once you do, you release the hold it has on your life. The darkness then disappears and the lies crumble. As Brene Brown put it, “Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of the light.”

Growing up in a dysfunctional family with divorced parents gave me a permanent wound that still bleeds to this day. I was silenced from very young and told that I needed to be strong because I was “too sensitive” when I wanted to express my feelings, so I learned to repress them. On the outside I looked fine. But really, I had resentment and anger that rippled out into all of my other relationships.

I struggled with letting people in, all the while I was bending over backwards for others. I was a people-pleaser. I was consumed by insecurities and blamed myself for everything that happened at home. I would physically harm myself to the point of feeling numb because I felt I deserved it. God felt distant. I didn’t know how to invite Him in, or anyone else. I became good at hiding. Until one day, by the grace of God, I decided to trust my mother and give her another chance since I had pushed her away for many years.

I thought she would disown me for having been such a horrible daughter. But instead, she met me there. She embraced me and accepted me. This started my journey of loving myself and trusting God through the relationships he gifted me with.

And the truth will always be this: no matter what you are going through, there is someone in your life who cares. There is someone who is willing to walk with you, stay on the phone until 2 am with you (God bless em’!), and even cry or laugh with you. There are people in our lives who are for us, even when we think we are alone in our darkness.

Our stories are capable of bringing light and life into our broken world and our broken people. It is even capable of mending our own broken hearts. It's in doing the very thing that scares us that helps us to conquer our fear. Then fear no longer has any power over our lives--setting us free.

My dear sister, your story matters. The fear of being rejected is not stronger than the truth of your goodness, no matter what has happened in your life.

Being vulnerable is our hearts cry for intimacy. We yearn to share our lives with others, to be the keepers of other’s stories. Isn’t that why we love heart-to-heart conversations so much? Let’s be open to have those conversations; to be vulnerable with God, with others, and with ourselves. This is how we thrive.

I do want to point out that this doesn’t mean we have to display every detail of our lives for the sake of connecting and/or relating to others. There are some parts of our story that are only meant for us to know or for a select few, and that is okay. It is important that we entrust those stories to those who are trustworthy.

So, I invite you sisters, and brothers alike (because I know y’all read this too), when you’re ready to do so, share your story. As you share your heart, you invite others to do the same. Healing then begins to cover every surface and crevice of our wounded nature and allows us to become whole again.


“Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love, belonging, and joy–the experiences that make us the most vulnerable.”

-Brene Brown

IMG_6857.JPG

Chelsea Rojas is a NYC girl born of Dominican parents. On weekdays she works as a bilingual Speech-Language Pathologist and on weekends she spends quality time sharing stories, laughs and good food with family and friends. She’s spent over 10+ years traveling and sharing the riches of the Theology of the Body to youth and young adults through her ministry, Corazon Puro. In her free time, you can find her being a health nut on IG @inthelittleways, hiking her neighborhood trails, or enjoying a sunset with a pretty skyline.

  Image by: [Paul Gregory https://www.thingwithfeathers.net]

Comment