Why This?

Story telling is such a great way to get to know people. We each have a unique story living inside of us and although there may be similarities to others, our story is our own and no one else’s.

Every once in a while, with a friend or in a group, I’d start sharing my story but I often didn’t get too far into it. Like most of us, I was surrounded by people who didn’t listen well and who were just waiting to interject their own stories. People who freely gave bad advice or judgemental words. People who said they understood because of their own life experience but they didn’t really. Often I was one of those people too.

A few years ago, I had the chance to tell my story. The woman I was talking with, was listening and asking questions and not judging and not offering advice and it was an amazingly freeing experience. We sat in a restaurant for two hours and I shared myself with her. And for the first time in a long time, I felt truly heard and known. And special, like I was important and mattered to this world.

That evening in the restaurant, was the first of many opportunities to share my story. Soon after that night, I started a course and being coached in front of my classmates was a large portion of the work. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. I kept waiting for the hammer to drop and the judgement to come but that didn’t happen. What I found was a community full of grace and patience and encouragement. What I also found, was a lot of people just like me who are making their way through life without the opportunity to share their story.

What grieves me most about not being able to share our stories with each other, is the great sense that maybe, just maybe, we don’t matter. That what we have to give might just go unnoticed. That being unheard might equal being unloved. And that is tragic. With the amazing diversity in our world, story sharing is such an easy way of bringing us closer together, of breaking down walls of indifference, and really getting to know our neighbours - near and far.

And what, do you suspect happens when we know people’s stories? Maybe the grouchy neighbour is simply lonely and in pain. Maybe the aloof teacher at the kid’s school is struggling with depression after the death of a loved one. Maybe the Mom yelling at her kids at the pool is parenting on her own and with a limited income.

Our stories are important. They are who we are. And they are what makes us human and just like everyone else. Except unique.

So my job and my joy, is to be able to listen to your stories. To provide a safe space for you to be you and to be heard. And to be known. And to be loved.