Numbness Disguised as Vulnerability: the truth about my oversharing.

I have always been an over-sharer.

Since the moment I first began posting here, 5 years ago now, I was seldom afraid of sensitive, vulnerable topics.

My first viral video I ever had was a video of me admitting I had depression. People applauded my vulnerability, and fell in love with my honesty. It was a gift, because it was the start of me attracting and growing an audience. But-

I was simply at my wits end.

It was really a cry for help.

Needless to say, I ended up receiving more help than I asked for, and a career was spawned out of my unique ability to be so open, so honest. A trait I soon would come to realize, few people felt comfortable doing in their everyday lives, much less publicly on social media.

The funny thing is when I got on LinkedIn, I didn't even have access to my childhood memories yet. I was just sharing what was coming up for me at the time and what I struggled with. Mental illness, dysfunctional family. I even remember the time I started my blog, I blocked all of my family members.

It's funny to look back - but I think that move was actually really necessary for me.

Blocking my family.

I knew they were my achilles heel when it came to expressing myself, they always were. I was bullied relentlessly as a child for expressing myself, which is especially heart-wrenching when you realize how already toxic, abusive, and distorted the environment I grew up in was.

My art, my singing, and my performative-ness was all I had to escape, and even that-

they couldn't let me have it.

Really tragic and upsetting to look back and think about all that for a child. Which leads me to this week's story about some next-level, serious reparenting I've gotten to do as of lately.

Check this out:

I recently had another memory come back about a time I sang in the church choir, I may have been about 6, and my family got it on video tape.

They played it over and over when we got home to laugh at me for how loud and off-pitch I was, finding joy and amusement in how obnoxious I looked. They even re-played it for new family members and friends that would stop by. My parents, and my siblings, made a comedy show out of my failure.

Sheesh.

Sometimes I wonder how parents can have no common sense?

Call me a sensitive child - but as an artistic soul,

this traumatized me.

But-

that's actually not the memory I forgot about. Ha, oh no-

I always remembered that story, and the bullying that followed that dreaded rendition of "Away In A Manger" at the local Congregational Church.

What memory was lost about that event, that recently came back into my field, was the memory of what I was actually feeling when I was on stage that day.

I remembered how I felt performing up on that church altar. Alive, important, grand... talented!

I thought I was doing such a great job.

Not to mention how much FUN I was having doing it!

Of course as a young child, perhaps at that time being the loudest one in the choir translated in my kiddy brain as being "the best!"

Oh well.

I was a kid...

I got off that stage very pleased with myself, and very eager to go home that day, because I thought I was about to be adored and applauded for what a good job I'd done!

I left with a beaming smile on my face, totally blind to what I had coming.

When the opposite response occurred, and my performance became a laughing stock of my family - a wound formed in my psyche that has literally remained imprinted on my way of being until this very day.

Despite what people may think of me -

I've always had trauma about being an entertainer.

I've always had this limiting belief that I can't make money, or be valued, doing what I love... and what it turns out I actually AM good at!

Despite the many, many more cases after this childhood incident where I'd been praised, complimented, listened to, admired, and validated for my performances. For my art, for my music, for my singing, for my plays...

Despite making it through American Idol 2012 and releasing an album in my early 20's, some of which even got played on the local radio. Despite friends I loved, friends I trusted, genuinely rockin' out to my music and telling me I have an amazing voice.

Despite even my own family members (in later years, at least some of them) coming around and finally acknowledging my vocal abilities.

Despite becoming what I would basically describe as a social-media-influencer, with nearly a million followers, dozens of skits, creative pieces, and even musical video parodies that have gone viral... that have been shared and enjoyed by the masses!

Despite all these occurrences... you know what prevailed?

That 6 year old Shay that was laughed at after church.

This is the power of influence we have over small, vulnerable children.

For crying out loud...

I was 6.

I think there's even tapes out there of Beyoncé bombing it at age 6.

So-

as I understand this all came back to me now for a reason, and the reason is because I can handle it.

The reason is because it's giving me answers, deep clarity, over WHY I've been so blocked as a creator, as an entertainer, basically all of my life.

This memory and these realizations are directly connected to what I'm going through in my career- and right on time as I have become an expert at firewalling victimy thoughts and instead, these days, relish in taking full ownership of my life, and my lack of alignment.

I am done blaming other people for my problems.

For my lack of fulfillment.

My lack of career in the arts.

My lack of self-esteem to do what I love, and trust that I can succeed at it.

I blamed my ex-boyfriend for years after our relationship. As I did, very literally, manifest a man who'd help me replay this childhood "You can't be a performer!" trauma all over again. Someone who really did push me away from my music, during a time in my young adult life where I'd actually mustered up the balls to go for it again.

BUT-

It was me who stayed away,

long after our breakup was over.

He was just an excuse, and a cop-out to not have to face my fear of rejection for being an artist...

all over again.

All this time manifesting experiences and relationships to validate my already existing belief that I simply, cannot make it as a performer. I'll be laughed at, boo'd, I'll have no ability to judge whether I'm really good or not!

And my fragile, gentile little girl inside me...

simply cannot handle that pain.

Not again.

I have repeated this cycle over and over - and now, have hit a breaking point in my career where, as of about April 20th, a few weeks ago now... I hit absolute burnout mode on being a coach and running an online marketing program.

It's cool - it paid the bills. I'm happy I got to help people, but it's really not me.

It's a version of me that felt safer than diving all into ART! Into content creation, influencer-lifestyle, acting, performing, and my deepest love of them all...

music.

These forces inside me are ready to be seen again.

Ready to be expressed.

Ready to accept the material abundance and financial success I now trust are coming for me.

And really,

was always there for me.

No one to blame - it was just me.

Tiny me.

Little child Shay...

who ran away at age 6 to hide.

You see, that's what these traumatic events set into motion so early on.

Hiding.

Pretending.

Adopting a false self.

Shame.

These are the prerequisites to Narcissistic Personality Disorder only the few will truly understand.

The bigger the shame, the bigger the ego.

Yup!

Even that person you just thought of there, with the massive ego, house, car, and boob-job of a girlfriend who seems like the picture of a perfect USA success story...

IT'S SHAME!

I promise you - if it's truly the energy I am describing here, the energy of ego, arrogance, and showmanship...

the core self-belief is actually shame.

Those of us who were shamed so badly as kids are creatively escaping that identity from the time we are young, so we form a false-self, a grandiose image and version we prefer to be...

and project that out into the world for as long as we can, until it inevitably comes crashing down.

That's been this Saturn Return for me. ??

That split-self, that ability to turn off what you really feel for yourself, and turn off much of your feelings in general...

has another term:

DISSOCIATION.

I have been dissociating for quite a long time.

Now without drugs, without booze, without men...

without a single crutch to lean on but God, trust me-

I'm feeling it all.

I began feeling it all over a year ago, especially age 29 is when the shame spirals really began to hit like never before.

That's why I quit smoking pot - there was just literally no point anymore.

It wasn't working.

Not that the shame went away from stopping, not at all! I just had a keen sense to know I had to sit with it now.

But whoosh-

29 it all came up for me.

Including, looking through a new lens at all of the things I'd ever shared on social media, and on my LinkedIn blog.

Oh gosh! For those of you who've been here since the beginning... you've seen quite a show.

Seriously, what do you NOT know about Shay?

I began to feel for the first time, so embarrassed about opening up like I had over the years.

My mental illness.

My relationship drama.

My business drama.

My self-righteous and victimy posts.

Eek...

*cringe mode*

But ESPECIALLY,

my podcast I released in 2020 about my childhood sexual trauma.

*just kill me now God... what have I done!?*

Now THAT was the biggest trigger of all, something I felt little shame releasing at the time. Of course, some. But mainly, I was cool with it! I felt ready to share back then, and eager to get it off my chest finally.

It wasn't until over a year later, shortly after my 29th birthday, I freaked out and deleted the whole thing. (lol - yes, even the episodes that didn't talk about my trauma. The entire show, which had hundreds of reviews and thousands of downloads!)

Needless to say,

I was shook.

I couldn't live with myself for what I had done, and all of the embarrassment for putting my dirty laundry out there, which... you'd THINK would have hit me upon releasing it...

was suddenly catching up with me now.

I went through night after night of feeling like I'd rather just die than face another day of who I'd revealed myself to the world to be.

Disgust over what happened to me.

Feeling disgusting that people knew about it.

Not to mention the guilt that caught up with me over putting my family on blast.

What kind of a selfish, obnoxious person am I anyways?

These are the thoughts that permeated my brain for months as I lay in piles of my own regret... looking back on the two and a half years I had under my belt of posting content as a vulnerable, "respected" creator.

Someone people admired.

Someone people turned to in awe, with amazement for my courage! My strength! My willingness to do what few could do! "Wow Shay!"

Someone people PAID MONEY TO so I could coach them through their shame, give them advice on getting over their fears, and just share their story! Put yourself out there more! Come on... you got it!

All of this and I'm like, how?

How was I doing this all this time?

Am I really this powerful, courageous woman people say I am?

Was I really ever vulnerable...

or was I just numb?

Well f*ck-

jackpot.

A painful realization that, the girl who everyone praised for being strong enough to face her shame head on, and share her vulnerabilities...

was really just- simply put,

a master of disassociation.

For NOW I am feeling things.

For NOW I am emotionally online.

For NOW I am clean, I am sober, I am clear.

And I am well aware of how sensitive, and fragile this style of thought-leadership really is. I'm still doing my best to put it all out there in a way I know a lot of people won't, even with my newfound sensitivity.

Even with a new, more intense layer of shame being brought to the surface from my childhood.

What is that saying..?

when the teacher becomes the student.

A little backwards, but you get the point.

I'm learning how to put myself out there all over again.

I've gained a new, immensely deep level of empathy for my clients, for my fans, and for anyone who messaged me over the years asking my advice on how to find the strength within to share their story.

To get real, to be vulnerable.

To overcome all the fear.

But the thing is-

I never really understood how they were so crippled by fear!

"JUST DO IT!!" I'd yell. (Okay, maybe not the best teacher...)

But many, many actually did it!

Following in the footsteps of my "strength", of my "courage." Through watching my example, they developed a level of security, a level of trust & knowing that everything was going to turn out okay for them, because after all...

"look at Shay!"

"She's doing great with it!"

Bahaha...

was I really tho?

The beauty here in this whole saga is this:

I had to be disassociated.

I had to be numb.

This was no mistake -

this was God's plan all along.

For had I always had access to how shameful I really feel, how easily embarrassed I can become, and how tempted I actually am to keep all my stories, my flaws, and my baggage a secret?

I would never have been able to share like I did.

Which in turn-

was a gift to so many.

Opening up about my my mental illness, my sexual trauma, and my experience with narcissistic abuse PAVED THE WAY for so many after me to get brave, and share who they really are and what they've been through. Online to their followings, offline to their loved ones, and especially...

to finally get real with themselves.

Paid client or not - I know the power of my influence.

I've seen the messages over the years, and I know the depths to which my story reached people.

I know even to this day, releasing that podcast... hard as it seems now...

has had ripple effects across the planet in unleashing this shame we collectively shoved into a box, long ago.

(and we wonder why society is so narcissistic... ha.)

That baby is finally being unleashed, and it's ugly.

But -

this really is the only way that we can heal it.

Someones gotta embrace the ugly, someones gotta take the first stand, and while I really am mortified at times of what people think of me...

I'm grateful God chose it to be me.

He gave me the sneaky gift of dissociation, which was the magic pill needed to set the whole movement in motion.

My students never needed to know the truth, as I didn't even know,

that I was numb.

My numbness, and my dissociation, tricked people into thinking I was really as strong as they were about to be...

but I wasn't.

It was actually you.

You, who expressed to me so deeply the terror you felt when you finally got real with yourself, and with the public, about what makes you shameful.

It was you who felt all of this, and did it anyways.

It was you who had courage to jump.

It was you-

who was strong all along.

Today, I've arrived to this place.

I get it.

& now all I can think, looking back on all the followers and clients who expressed this fear to me over the years is, "DAMN!-

so this is what you went through?"

You are one strong motherfucker.

For you were not numb-

you were vulnerable.

#Shayshine ??

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