Putting yourself out there

Thoughts on vulnerability, stepping out of your comfort zone and redefining success.

So, I may have mentioned I have written a book...

It's a good book. I think it is a book that could help a lot of people. And create a great deal of positive change for individuals and onwards to our world. But to do that I have to get it out there. And to do that, I have to get out there.

Publishers want you to have a platform. To be an expert in your field with established reach. They need convincing, not just that your book is decent, but that you (as the author - the figurehead of your work) will sell copies. A friend mentioned the London Book Fair as a chance to meet smaller publishers. So, I made 10 packs up - Tony's Chocolate to bribe, a letter of introduction and a summary of my book and its aims - and off I went to network.

Whoever you are, and whatever the change you want in your mental health or in your outer life, this experience of seeing possible steps forward and that they take your out of your comfort zone is pretty universal.

What are you hoping to shift or improve this year?

If you were honest with yourself, what steps would help but feel like they take you out of your comfort zone?

What is your equivalent of the London Book Fair?

Sensory overload

I think this is important to begin with this - the event was hideous.

A huge space with hundreds of stalls, bright lights, noise, strangers, people meeting...and me wandering around a bit dazed, with no meetings scheduled and only an idea to engage publishers or agents in conversation and then give them my pitch for my book. I was in the deep end...doing doggy-paddle with experienced swimmers powering past doing front crawl.

I think this is worth noting because when we are experiencing sensory stress our internal capacity goes down. Imagine your internal resource as a mobile phone battery - tiredness, physical pain, illness, worry, grief, noise, new situations, loud noises, bright lights, unfamiliar places and people - these are all stressful to human and they run that internal battery down.

And when our battery gets low (perhaps past some level of ok-ness, for me it feels like anything under 40% battery life), our old negative loops of thinking, limiting beliefs, self-doubt and vulnerabilities get reactivated.

To begin with I did pretty well, I handed out a bit of information and got the lay of the land. I had some practice in talking quickly and with clarity about my book. This is the line I came to in case you are interested,

My book is a guide to self-worth - this brings power to individuals and change to our world. We have to claim back our power from media and corporations that have us chasing endless improvement and trying to purchase our way to worth. My book is an invitation into true empowerment - we all need it and our world is desperate for us to claim it.

And then I got hungry (battery drops further) and had a bit of vulnerable moment, standing for 15 minutes on the edge of a publisher's stand being ignored by the people there, and something snapped a bit inside me.

I walked off and felt anxiety brewing in my chest. Tears started. I had a sense of panic - stood alone in the middle of this massive event, not knowing what to do next, feeling sad and disheartened ("Isn't this a bit pathetic Emily? No one wants your book.")

I tried to regroup, to find the next stand to visit but I felt quieter and quieter. In fact, I felt silent. I wanted to leave and go home. It was all too much.

I guess I am sharing this to show how much our physical state impacts our capacity. And this matters if we are trying to grow and to step out towards what we dream of or need.

This experience of brain demons coming out to play when our inner-resourcing is low is what I call Shitty Factory Resets. Everyone I know has their own version of it - where does your brain go when you are under-resourced? Can you think of some times when you felt like your battery-life was low and what impact did this have on your mood?

If we are going to reach for change, then considering our body needs is crucial. It is our partner in progress and when we ignore it, everything gets harder.

My childhood wound

In that moment, stood silent and overwhelmed, I felt distressed and invisible. I knew that this was old trauma resurfacing because I felt young - a child inside a woman's body, quiet and struggling. I could observe this, it didn't feel like "regular Emily" and, because of the therapy I have had, I know this wound well. In scary or vulnerable situations I go quiet - it's a variation of the freeze (fight, flight, freeze) survival response. Fly under the radar, be small, stay quiet, avoid risk.

I just wanted to get out of there.

I wanted to go home.

But I was aware that, if I did leave, the whole experience would go down as an epic failure.

I felt stuck.

I wonder if you ever feel like a child in a moment?

Toddler-like rage and emotional meltdown, small child lost or worried, teenage defiance or frustration. These moments when we feel young are often what re-emerge when we are highly activated/stressed/distressed. It is helpful to grow awareness of them because understanding part of your experience is young can help navigate you to the most helpful response in that moment.

I haven't felt this way for a long time. It was quite unnerving to be honest. And thankfully, I had a secret weapon to help me...

Loving support

The truth is, I was alone in the middle of the floor, but somewhere in another part of the venue was my friend Laura. Also trying to strike up conversations and interest in her book - Soul Freedom.

I made my way to her and she gave me a huge hug. We sat on the floor and I had a cry - she gave me her understanding of why this was so hard...wandering around a busy, unfamiliar, overwhelming, noisy place trying to talk about my book which is all of my heart, work, purpose and dreams. She helped me to see that I had already achieved so much in being there, in practising representing myself as an author and in the conversations I had had so far. She listened as I explained that some of what I was feeling was old stuff - trauma, childhood wounds.

We sat together in a corner. "How many more envelopes do you have to give out?" she asked. I looked in my bag, there were two remaining. "How about we leave in 15 minutes and you go for it and be open to two final conversations?" she offered.

I checked - my battery felt about 47%.

There is so much focus on hyper-independence in our world. Apparently we are meant to do it all alone - that is THE version of success we are continuously drip-fed.

But I have found that I can reach for more when I have support. I didn't need a pep talk or advice, I just needed someone to be kind so I could charge up my battery. I needed a team-mate.

If you are wanting growth or change this year - who can you turn to for support? And how do you feel about showing up with vulnerability when you ask? Because that's the time that you'll need it the most...how much have you bought into the "do it alone" approach to life?

Sowing the seeds

Off I went, a bit sniffy but reinvigorated. I charmed my way into a meeting with an editor at a publishing firm I had wanted to target - who knows what will come of it, if anything. But she got it - she got me and my book and what I am about, "Yes, I totally agree with you" she said. "Ok, here is my card, send me some more information." She's not the right person there - but she was lovely and it was a genuine connection, perhaps she will forward my details to a colleague. (Some chocolate-based bribery may have taken place).

And I went from her to one more stand and, again, had an authentic chat with two women working there. I have sent 4 follow up emails this week, it's all building my confidence, putting me through my paces to stand up and say, "I deserve a book deal."

I am wondering what seeds you might sow and what follow up actions they might need to germinate? How you might consider a regular reset might be needed if you are to keep going with what matters?

The fall out

That night I did not sleep. I was so wired. And the whole week was a shambles. I needed clear space to decompress - I could feel how much stress and activation I was carrying in my chest. My heartrate never seemed to climb down.

I went from the London Book Fair into an evening meeting (very interesting but a lot of ideas and creativity), family life, sick children, client sessions...did I mention we are trying to buy a house too? Plus numerous other urgent life admin tasks, normal life stuff - washing, dinners, blah blah blah. It wasn't until Sunday that I found the time I needed to do a long relaxing meditation in bed and finally I could feel the stress leaving.

It felt like an energy crash. I was amazed how much the day had taken out of me. It was so much more than just going to an event.

And yet, I am glad I went. Glad I stayed. Glad I persevered and had support. Glad I got to practise my pitch. Glad I got a couple of leads. Glad to have bonding time with my friend. Glad I let the little girl inside me speak and receive compassion and a hug.

This is me saying, it is tough putting yourself out there when you have wounds to your self-worth, when you are stretched or running on empty, when you are invested.

I think it is ok to need support and recovery time and I wonder if you would feel alright needing space to rest after something similar.

The world seems quite convinced that "push on through" is always the answer...I have learnt that rest and gentleness are more likely to give you long-term health and success.

So, was my day at the London Book Fair a...

...success?

What do you think?

Part of my book is arguing for us to talk more openly about our tough days and our dark times - because we have this idea that success is without vulnerability or distress. It's the shiniest version of confidence. It's us on our best day. It's everything in flow.

The London Book Fair was hard for me but I feel it was a success - it has moved me on towards my goal, I learnt a lot too. It wasn't pretty and I did not feel like a success for much of the day (maybe only for the very first half hour if I am honest). In fact, for a large part of it I felt silent, an echo of a frightened eight year old girl finding the world too much and too scary. I cried, I wanted to leave...

...AND (not but) and yes, I believe it was a success.

I had support, I lent into it. I understood myself and was able to take care of myself physically and emotionally during it and afterwards. I didn't push on and I didn't run away. I found a way to take my purpose and my needs on the path together. That feels like a truly human experience of success.

What images do you have around the word success?

How far from where you are now is this image? And does it represent real life and authentic human experience - does it have space for you to be just as you are in it?

If not, perhaps have a reframe...we don't want to have to be perfect to find self-worth and feel proud. Success is surely somewhat based on self-acceptance?

What is the change you long for? And how can support - from yourself and from others - help you step towards that?

I'll leave it here - that's my report on self-worth from the London Book Fair. I hope it has offered you something.

As ever, if you would like to share how this has landed for you - please get in touch! Ideas for future articles are also welcome - get in touch and share with me.

Always with love,

Emily