Knees shaking. Heart pounding. “What are you doing?!” my thoughts spin as I sit in the back row at a MOTH Story Slam. I just put my name in a hat to tell a personal story. A really personal one. In public. Like maybe two hundred people public.
My name is called to a microphone on an empty stage. The story I’d been working on for the last five years in writing, speaking, filming was calling. All of it unexpressed. Just. Like. Me. Until this moment.
I had five minutes.
My legs wobble as I walk up on stage. With hands clenched behind my back and a shaky voice, I begin to tell my story.
“It’s the summer of 1995 and I’m standing in the Seoul Olympic Stadium holding the hand of a man I met just a month before, and am about to marry,” I hear my voice trembling through the microphone.
I was always the shy girl growing up. I hid behind my mother when meeting strangers. Waited to be asked questions. Never raised my hand. Never talked back. Never wanted to make anyone uncomfortable.
But this story was about to make me and others just that.
I can barely breathe as I continue explaining my upbringing in the Unification Church including my participation in a mass wedding and arranged marriage when I was 20. How there, on the Astro Turf floor of the Seoul, Olympic Stadium, I committed to marrying a man I had met just a month before. How Rev. Sun Myung Moon, the founder of the Unification Church I was raised in, officiated the wedding and had matched me and my then husband using 8×10 photographs. How I ultimately left the marriage in what felt like a divorce from the church and my parents (who are still members in it).
This story is one that, in the past, I could only tell in dark corners of bars.
Stay quiet, stay small, stay perfect I’d tell the story.
Speak it, get it out of you, TELL YOUR F&^&@# STORY it would yell back.
It took me seven years to finally get it out in the form of the documentary Blessed Child.
Wedding Day 1995
I now work with entrepreneurs who want to step out in the world as their most authentic selves and discover the life and work-changing magic of that. Some of them feel called to tell a story. Some don’t know yet know that they have one to tell. All of them discover the power of story to uncover the deepest thing they have to say: their message, their thought leadership, their unique path for making a bigger impact. I provide support along a transformational journey that can’t be walked alone and short cuts to a process that took me way too long.
Now, more than ever, your story is needed as a vehicle of empathy and truth. Behind its blocked expression is your leadership. Your voice.
As I exited the Moth stage that night, I felt as if I had left a five ton burden on it. My story was no longer mine. It was everyone’s. The feeling I felt on my way home that night wasn’t elation, but something I hadn’t felt in all those years of holding my story back.
Hello, freedom.