Inside Bell's Brain

So many of you have reached out to me since my last post to share with me in some way how it has affected you. I’m so humbled by your courage and bravery in sharing your “lies” with me, and I’m eager to explore all our ideas together in this space.  My lie #2 is quite similar in many ways to my first. And this post is about to get as vulnerable as I’ve ever been publicly and definitely ever been online. I tend to be open about my past because it’s who I am and I have nothing to hide, but so many people (especially women) stand ready to judge and misuse your openness and vulnerabilities against you. I’m taking that risk because on the flip side, I think it’s imperative that we relate our experiences to one another to learn from each other and to keep one another from making the same mistakes (or believing the same lies). So here it goes... My Lie #2: This season will last forever.  The only constant in life is change. If that’s not true, what is?  Sometimes it changes so quickly that it

I went back and forth about beginning the *trendy* book called Girl, Wash Your Face. It looked like it would interest me, and I had it on my proverbial wish list when I came across an article alleging some fallacies from the Christian woman’s perspective about the stances she takes in the book (which turned me off to it). My best friend too a poll and based on the responses of other Christian women, she decided to read it but purely from a secular perspective. I agreed that was a good idea and after skimming the table of contents in a friend’s copy, I decided I needed it too.  Just one Introduction and chapter in, it already had me thinking. I too have felt many of these lies in my own life, but not all of them are specific to me. So that got me to thinking... What are the lies I believe or have believed in my life?  I was able to generate a list of 10 pretty quickly and then used social media as an avenue to start collecting more lies from my friends’ perspectives. I’m beginning thi

Sometimes I can’t sort through my feelings until I write them out. The curse of the INFJ. I can’t talk it out always or it comes out a big fat jumble. But give me a pen (or my phone) and I can write (or text) it out beautifully.  Tonight my empathy is on my mind. First, let me say that I in NO WAY mean this to come off as boastful. I’m just using this as a method to wrap my mind around my own feelings tonight and perhaps say something that will help someone else who may be experiencing the same.  I’ve challenged myself to live out my blog more boldly and transparently for such a cause, so I guess this is par for the course.  I’ve always been a highly sensitive person. I have always experienced things to a hyperbolic degree almost. It hasn’t been until my 30s that I had a label for that. Something to call it. I took several personality tests and began reading on love languages and psychology and finally began making sense of myself to myself.  As a survivor of verbal/emotional abuse and