Hold the Applause

I sat down listening to my dad’s frustration with Spectrum and its unreliable service. Patiently, I waited for an opening  to share my news. I took a deep breath at the first available pause and eagerly told my parents that I had started my new blog page. I whipped out my cell phone and quickly sent both of them my page’s link. I sat down across from both of them anticipating the joy I knew I’d bring to their faces as they read my heartfelt post about the visit to my grandmother’s.

Like a balloon, my excitement quickly deflated as I watched my dad’s index finger hurriedly scroll through the post, clearly unmoved at what had taken me days to write. My mom, my biggest cheerleader, politely told me she’d read it later because she didn’t want to read it while I was there. I instantly sank back into the soft leather sofa, feeling defeated. It took me about ten minutes to recover as I dealt with the blow by capturing the moment in the notes section on my phone.

I’ve had numerous experiences like this one where I didn’t receive the applause that I craved. From big things like writing a book, to the smaller things like preparing the perfect meal. How could anyone not appreciate all the time and effort I put into what I created?

I always joke that my ultimate dream would be to lead a song in a church choir or better yet, dance so well that a crowd would form around me, cheering me on. Ironically though, I’m terrified of being on stage.

I’m neither a singer nor a dancer, and that’s putting it mildly.  I struggle to clap and sing at the same time. These types of talents are what I like to call loud gifts. People can see them and hear them. For most of my adult life, I wasn’t even sure I had a gift. When people told me that I was good at this or that, I’d  minimize it because the “gift” they were talking about was quiet. Deep down, I longed to be deemed special without the uncomfortableness of a crowd.

I was stuck between desiring to be seen and not wanting the attention.

My fear of not getting accolades or being scrutinized have always been my downfall, preventing me from sharing my authentic self. I’ve often shrunk back to avoid being noticed, letting others take the stage while I sat behind the scenes cheering them on. After all, who cares about writing, scrapbooking, or being able to make the bomb mashed potatoes?

I’ve always enjoyed supporting others, relishing in their successes. But a few years ago, something clicked. I was tired of my mundane existence, forever standing in the background. Fifty was around the corner, and a new unexpected feeling began to emerge. I no longer cared about screwing up. Well, not nearly as much. It was my turn to put myself out there. With my husband’s relentless encouragement, I decided that I would realize my gift of writing, and just go for it. Truthfully, it was a scary experience. Writing requires an extreme level of vulnerability, and my fear of sucking at it permeated my mind throughout the entire process. I asked myself over and over again, Why are you doing this? Telling myself that the whole idea of writing a book was stupid. However, my desire to create a finished product from my own imagination won out, resulting in one of the biggest highs of my life. To top it off, my friends and family seemed to like it. The praise was instant, and I felt like the singer and dancer I always wished I could be.

With adoration, though, came reality. I had expected every member of my inner circle to read my book. Instead, most of my readers were coworkers, associates and strangers. It was hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that some of my closest friends and family had little to no interest in my book. I expected them to love me enough to at least read it. Whew! Strikes a nerve writing that! To make matters worse, some who actually read it, offered little to no feedback. Now, I wasn’t so naïve to think everyone would love my book. I fully understood that bad reviews come with being a writer. I got that. But the silence was deafening.

I literally wracked my brain recalling the times I had supported these people who were so near and dear to me. Birthdays, graduations, deaths, health crises, trips, marriages, and divorces. You name it, I was there. After careful examination though, I realized the things I supported had nothing to do with their talents or gifts. In fact, I questioned whether or not I had even explored this topic with them. What had I celebrated ABOUT the people who I wanted to applaud me?

Some of them were honest enough to say that they’d buy my book but didn’t like to read. These non-readers promoted my book when I was too shy to do it myself. These same people came out in droves for my book launch. It’s the same thing that I often do myself. I don’t like Girl Scout Cookies, but I buy them anyway to support a cause.

Everybody can’t sing or dance. Everybody can’t play a sport. The list goes on and on. Your gift ain’t mine, and mine ain’t yours. Understand this, though. We ALL have one! Know that the Quiet gifts are just as important as the Loud ones. Shine no matter who celebrates you for it. But, also pay attention to the bigger picture, understanding that support comes in different forms.  My parents don’t even know what a blog is. My husband falls asleep sometimes when I read excerpts from my writing because he’s just plain tired. But, they are the first to tell me how proud they are of me. They show up to every event and brag about me whenever they get a chance. Recognize this, and reflect on how you show up for your circle too.

There are also those folks who may not like what you like or understand your passion about what it is you do. But, they’re standing beside you, believing in your dream even though it’s not their own. These wonderful human beings are your tribe and will easily be distinguishable from your haters. They will reveal their support for you in their own special way, letting you know how much faith they have in you. The beauty in it all is that there are also those who will love what you do because it’s their thing too. That’s your audience. Find them, celebrate with them, and enjoy their applause!