Quest for the Truth: Part Two

Let the voices find freedom ✨

In Part One I wrote about the beginning of my Quest for the Truth that began years ago, with connecting souls both on the same quest. I shared my journey from that time, and it’s reminder more recently. I explored a spiritual perspective of finding peace in boundaries.

Part Two is the journey of the empowerment of voicing the truths that were previously suppressed, and the hidden factor which is contributing to truth not being named.

The Cost of Silence

The real reason I began this series is because before then I had a big awakening that my body had been keeping score of my hiding.

I’d written a post about my family situation - black sheep, deaths, the legal battle, the abuse, truth I’d been carrying for years. I’d drafted it, spent days adding, refining, had multiple people here on Substack telling me they wanted to read it. It was so heavy going, my weightiest post yet. And then... I didn’t post it. I was too scared.

I valued myself on being the happy fairy with pastel colours and cheery emojis. This post didn’t fit my aesthetic. People were actually subscribing to me and I thought, they are here because of this part of me. They will unsubscribe when they see the darker times in my life.

On top of that, I feared it being seen by those from my real world somehow, and somehow I’d be made to pay for speaking the truth. The fear overtook, and the post stayed in my drafts.

The next evening a pain came, so severe I thought I was dying. My gallbladder was attacking. An ambulance was called because I had no idea what was happening. All I knew is that I was in excruciating pain where I could no longer even speak.

The spiritual teachings I found later said gallbladder issues relate to repressed anger. Suppressed expression. Unreleased truth. Decisions withheld at the threshold of action. It was the goddamn post. My body had screamed.

The next day, still recovering, I posted the vulnerable piece. Everything I’d been afraid to say publicly. I also resolved to work on my suppressed anger.

I was pleasantly gifted so many synchronicities in articles by other women talking about truth. One of these wonderful Substackers writes about dark femininity, something I was not familiar with but intrigued by. Her writing is so empowered, so raw, so relatable, and she has been so helpful in my quest for deepening what I found there.

Lilith

She directed me to a post she has written on Lilith. I would call myself nature religious, though aside from praying to the stars, in particular the Big Dipper, my bear, I don’t look into goddesses etc all that much. So this was new territory for me even though I’m seen as a witchy type. My style is more fairy with jars of herbs and fairy dust.

The post was powerful. I was further intrigued that you can find Lilith in your astrological chart. I hunted her down, evaluated the meaning and yes, my Lilith had beef I could definitely relate to.

• I see how things could run better and would quietly work on these things, whilst being taken for granted by those who benefitted from it.

• My care being assumed, my discernment being something others ask me for as part of that care.

• My body saying “no” before my mouth does.

• Tolerating sloppiness from others, whilst holding myself to a high standard.

I could see all of this very present and running through various themes of my life, especially recently. My beautiful words from Post One, still relevant, still useful in releasing. But Lilith wanted to be heard more rawly. She wanted a voice.

How to express my truth

I’ve tried expressing my truth before to be met with punishment or argument. Partly why I don’t voice so much anymore. I found repeatedly, I just wasn’t being heard. I can’t make people hear me, so what’s the point in saying anything?

I had made the decision to aliven my inner Lilith. And was presented with a perfect starter opportunity. I had voiced a boundary to someone a few weeks ago. It was my last message to them in our DM chat, so clearly visible. And they crossed the same boundary, again. I responded that I felt that they had ignored my boundary, politely but to the point. They reply was akin to a baby throwing their toys out of the pram, coupled with that they had good intentions and I was incorrect to have said that one sentence. I’ve heard this before and this is why I love one of the principles we live by at work.

Impact > intent.

I thought about it, and decided upon another approach. I knew a conversation wouldn’t happen, that there would be no reflection, so I chose to express myself with wisdom in a way that would make me feel better.

And I did feel so much better! I rewrote the script, sent it to them and went about my day. I don’t even know this person and assume that’s the last I will hear from them.

I figured, this is one way I can feel heard, and leave the situation feeling more positive, empowered, and it’s definitely more kind and respectful than the kind of message I wanted to send.

Sharing truth with joy

A few days later I was in a conversation with a friend about a controversial topic. We found we landed on opposite sides. I like this friend a lot, and I decided to voice and be clear about my opinion and explain further how I got there. I sent her a pretty cheery voice note and invited her to share her thoughts with me.

After an evening of respecting each others truths and learning more about why we hold them, we signed off for the day saying thank you for holding the space and being respectful. That usually it would have been a fearful process and while the worry was there, it turned out really well!

In one week I had explored truth-telling with a stranger and with a friend.

Bigger stakes

A week later I had a new challenge come up. I have some financial ties to an ex from a few years ago. I have tried over the years to come to an agreement with him, communicate, nothing moved. He was now ghosting me and while it wasn’t directly affecting me consciously, it was still a tie that needed to be severed, but this was a situation I empathised with so deeply, I didn’t want to be the villain.

I had a dream about it, where the symbology appeared to show that we were revisiting the situation, but with different boundaries. I decided to reach out to him.

I wrote a clear email, reopening dialogue and to my surprise, he replied full of apologies for avoiding me. This didn’t leave me in the clear however. More truth needed to come out and my attempts were cushioning it. Why?

Synchronicity came into the mix again. I had an email through for Gaia for 1 month for $1. I subscribed instantly, and the page opened to their Gaia AI program; Architect+. I played with it a little and decided, okay it’s trained on spiritual matters, I wonder what it has to say here. I explained the situation and something hit.

My empathy was turned outwards, towards others and not towards myself. I was actively ignoring my own needs. I had said that it wasn’t really affecting me, but it was. This was a financial situation, and as someone who’s counted coins at the shop too many times this year to afford food, it absolutely was affecting me.

I removed all of the emotion from it. I responded to say “No personal talk, no pulling on my empathy to weigh things in your favour, let’s talk numbers only.” Suddenly I had the strength to face the situation more head on than I ever have.

This fierce compassion I have for others, has to include me

Turning Compassion Inward

Here’s what I’ve realised through all of this: my empathy has always been my gift. I feel deeply. I understand others’ pain, needs, desires - even when they don’t express them. It likely is childhood trauma created as well as the plight of a woman. Read the mood, keep yourself safe.

That empathy was weaponised against me. By others, and I was doing this to myself. Willingly. Blindly.

Outward compassion says: “I understand your pain. I’ll adjust.”

Inward compassion says: “I understand my pain. I will no longer abandon myself to soothe you.”

With that man in the message: I didn’t attack him. I just named reality. I gave myself the respect I deserved. Then I moved on.

With my ex: I didn’t yell about the 19 months of silence. I laid out the facts, the financial reality, what fairness actually requires. No emotion. Just truth.

With my friend on the controversial topic: I shared my truth joyfully, invited hers, and we both walked away respected.

This is what self-compassion in action looks like.

Not softening yourself for others’ comfort. Not performing niceness while abandoning your needs. But speaking truth, holding boundaries, and trusting that you’re worth protecting - even when it disappoints someone else.

Giving Back to Myself What Wasn’t Given

I know from spiritual teachings that flow comes easier when you give to yourself what you need from others. If you want love, love yourself first. I need compassion, and need to give that to myself every time.

For me, this journey has been about naming and believing in my truth and not needing others to agree.

But this quest continues.

Because honestly, every time I think I’ve learnt this lesson, I realise I haven’t. I find my notes are reminding me the exact same things that I wrote down months ago. Though now, I see the challenges changing form, which shows me that I’m being offered different angles of the same challenge. Can I still show self-compassion when it looks like this? How about this? And this?

I’ll keep working on this. I’ve added some journal prompts at the bottom. If this resonated, I’d love to hear: Where are you in your own truth-telling journey? What’s the truth your body is holding that wants to be spoken?

Lots of Love,

Some journal prompts for your own quest:

• Where is my empathy flowing outward at my own expense?

• What truth is my body holding that my mouth hasn’t spoken yet?

• What would I say if I gave myself the same fierce compassion I give others?

• Where have I been the ethical janitor, cleaning up messes that aren’t mine?

• What does self-compassion actually require of me right now?