What do you want?

Really.

What     do     you     want?

That’s one of the most frightening – yet empowering – questions there is. It can make you choke. Cause your throat to close up, your breath to catch.

What’s so hard about claiming what we desire?

Fear.

Fear of not receiving it or being worth it.
Fear of the consequences. The fall out.
Fear of actually receiving what you want … and not knowing what to do next.

Saying what you want means telling the truth.

And the truth has a way of shaking us like a tree in a wild storm. It makes us drop our vulnerabilities to the ground, crush them, succumb to them. It strips us bare and asks us to do what feels impossible: Stand tall, naked, and say what needs to be said. No matter what.

Even if you don’t get what you want.

It asks you – no, requires you – to trust in something larger than yourself.

It requires you to have faith in the process, to believe deep in your marrow, that the truth trumps all. And that regardless of what happens, you will be OK … because a pathway to greater truth will open for you. It might not show up the way you expected and it will most likely involve change and discomfort; but … the path will present itself.

How can you believe that when fear is clutching your throat?

Take action.

Try it. Test it out. See what happens.
Answer the question: What do you want?
Then…

Say what you need to say.

Spit it out.
Scream it.
Praise it.
Sing it.
Dance it out.
Let it move you, in you, through you, and out of you.
Get.
It.
Out.

Then let go…

Let go of expectations.
Let go of the need for reciprocity.
Let go of the idea that you’re undeserving.

Pull your bravery out of your gut. Stand in it. Anchor yourself in love … in your love of integrity and honesty. In your love of the brazen, audacious truth.

I know how hard it can be. When presented with opportunities to tell my raw truth, to say what I really want, right that moment, I often swallow it back. I’m afraid of not being special enough, important enough, beautiful enough, to get it. I’m afraid of making a fool out of myself. I’m afraid of getting hurt. Of rejection. Of being left. So I tell most of the truth. Not all. Just most. I leave some out for self-preservation.

But that only keeps me stuck, at a distance from myself and from my true desires. That doesn’t feel good.

It takes the sway of vulnerability to stand firmly in the middle of your truth and speak it.

And I’m going to speak it.

What is it that YOU want? What truth is tugging at you? I’d love to hear below in the comments.