Let Your Light Shine

Author Anne Paris shares a delightful true short story below, about just how important she believes it is to let your light shine.

Shining

by Anne Paris, PhD

This was my answer to David Brown, host of the radio/internet program, "24 Powerful Women in 24 Days" not long ago. Being invited to be one of the 24 powerful women was an honor and a thrill.

This last year, since my book was published, has been quite an adventure-both externally and internally. I've gotten to go places, meet people, and be a part of things I never would have imagined.

Inside, I have been at my best as well as at my weakest. At moments, I have felt confident and full of vitality, and at other times I have felt insecure and frightened.

I have ventured into a new terrain of experience and have tumbled and rolled with various emotions and reactions. I recognize that I have alternated between fears of failure and fears of success. Sometimes it seemed that I felt both fears simultaneously.

"Shining" has been an adventure. Throughout the long process of trying to actualize my dream of writing a book, memories of a childhood experience kept surfacing.

I remember the second grade. I loved school. In fact, I would "play school" for hours on end at home. I asked my parents to hang a blackboard in my bedroom so I could teach the imaginary students that sat in my class. I constructed my lessons, complete with ditto worksheets (if anyone reading this is old enough to remember, dittos used to have a particular smell that I loved and would breathe in like flowers), and I would teach for hours.

I arranged the papers on my bedroom desk the same way that my real teacher arranged hers. I would write, erase, write, erase on the chalkboard as I taught my imaginary students reading, writing, math, social studies, and science. I knew for sure I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.

At real school, my parents were being called in for special meetings with my teacher and the principal. I was not privy to their conversations - all I knew was that something special was being discussed -- that somehow I was being singled out.

"It must be", I thought, "that the teachers know about my teaching abilities and are going to ask me to BE a teacher."

I think I told my parents about this fantasy. They must have told my teacher, because the next thing I knew, Mrs. Holton asked me to teach a social studies lesson to my peers! "This must be the beginning of my teaching career", I thought to my grandiose self.

Much to my dismay, I finally learned what all the secret meetings were about. The teacher did not want me to be a teacher; she thought I should skip a grade. I was disappointed, to say the least, but I knew in my heart that I was not old enough to be a teacher. I remember having some anxiety about leaving my class of friends, and going into the unknown territory of third grade. But I was also excited to be moved ahead and felt proud and special to have this honor.

I remember the day I moved classrooms. My teacher told me to empty my desk and to wait outside in the hallway. "Why does she get to go to the third grade?" the other kids asked. "Because she's so smart", a kid replied. I remember feeling a wave of panic-I am no longer "one of them". I sat there against the hallway wall, with my cigar box full of my supplies from my desk, waiting for the principal to escort me to the third grade room. I was excited and anxious.

When I entered the third grade room, I remember being struck with how old all the other kids looked. Do I belong in here? I also remember the teacher reading CHARLOTTE'S WEB out loud as I walked into the sea of unknown faces. I found my new desk and put my cigar box inside--my new home.

Would I be able to do 3rd grade work? I was a little anxious, but quickly found I still easily earned A's. I remember a particular moment when the teacher announced to the class how well I had done on a test. I think she even held me up as an example to the class: "Look at how well Anne did on this test-the rest of you should be able to do it too!" Kids around me sighed and snickered and mimicked the teacher. I was horrified.

The next day we took a math test. I clearly remember my thought process-I consciously decided I would fail this test. I wanted to be liked. I wanted to be a part of the class. I didn't want to be singled out anymore. If they could see that I failed the test, I would become one of them. I would be average. And so I did. I put down the wrong answers and received a big fat, beautiful F. I made sure the other kids saw it. It seemed to work, too-I felt like I fit in, and began to make friends with my new, older peers.

From that point on, I experienced many moments of being afraid to shine. Throughout my high school years, I was careful to be average. Not that I was consciously aware of this effort-I just didn't put forth much effort. I befriended the "average" students, even becoming somewhat snobby about the "brains" in the school. I was content with Bs. Besides, I felt, friends were more important anyway.

I was able to find my passion again for learning (and performing, I suppose) in college when I studied psychology. Perhaps it was the subject matter that intrigued me. Perhaps it was seeing other passionate students and realizing I did not have to be socially alienated if I did well. Perhaps the reality of a future career and lifestyle became more real. Whatever it was that clicked inside of me, I recall that wonderful feeling of allowing myself to shine again. I pursued my psychology studies with vigor, earning my doctorate and beginning to practice psychotherapy.

Through 25 years of practicing psychotherapy, specializing in creativity and helping artists start and finish their projects; I heard often how many people struggle with this similar conflict. Many people were afraid to fail, on the one hand, and afraid to shine on the other. As I worked to understand my clients, myself, and the human condition, the importance of relationships continually took center stage. We move in and out of connectedness with others, and at a subconscious level just outside of our awareness, we constantly monitor our position with others. This underlying sense of our self-in-relation-with-others determines many of our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. We move toward or away, we feel safe or we feel frightened, we act or we don't, based on this moment-to-moment dimension of connection.

Alongside our fear of failing (and disappointing others or feeling rejected by them), we can also have a fear of shining (and alienating others or losing our feeling of being like them). In addition to what we imagine losing may also be actual losses of connection. We hope that our good friends can comfort and understand our pain when we fail, and that they can celebrate with us when we succeed. But we all know that others can feel bolstered by our failures and threatened by our successes. It can take tremendous trust and courage to share both our failures and our successes.

So as I look back on my childhood experience of shining, now 40 years and many fearful, careful moments later, it makes sad sense to me that I reacted the way I did. Perhaps if I had a friend or two who skipped 2nd grade with me I would not have felt a need to dim my shine. Maybe skipping grades was a mistake for me in terms of my comfort with shining. And maybe it's just a human experience that we all must confront and resolve somehow. But one thing I do know is that my need to feel connected with my peers was and is a valid, real, and necessary part of my well-being.

Share Your Own Short Inspirational Stories

Stories of Most Inspirational People | True Short Stories | Fictional Short Stories that Inspire | Short Inspirational Poems

Personal Development Home from Let Your Light Shine

Your Personal Development Comments

Have your say about the personal development info you just read! Leave me a comment in the box below.

© 2008-2012 inspired-personal-development.com

SBI!