We were in the middle of taping when the door behind us beeped open and a security guard crossed the lobby and headed to the bathroom. The three of us looked at each other, then back towards where the man disappeared. I’d stopped in the middle of a sentence, and after a brief period of wondering how long the man would be in there, we started again.
But I’d lost my place. I’d been in the zone, successfully putting together answers from the years and years of thoughts and experiences as a spoonie, but the break in action had me floundering. A few times, I couldn’t think of a word, and had to stop and re-phrase. It took a few minutes, but I found my flow once again and was off.
We were filming a video for my day-job company about living with disabilities and how to be a better ally. This was, if you know anything about me, a fantastic opportunity and something I feel I was made to do. I’m the loud friend, the one who asks the lady at the bakery counter for two cookies, pointing to my friend standing ten steps behind. I’ll ask the questions you’re afraid to, speak up when something’s up, and put myself out there even when nervous.
(I was nervous all night and morning!)
At one point, someone else came in, a bit loudly, and I turned and said, “Hey, we filming here!” and put my finger to my lip. That’s very much me. I’ll say what we’re all thinking.
It felt like a continuation of everything I’ve been sharing in this space for the past, well, fourteen years. Being completely honest and open about my struggles and successes, the bad days and the fantastic ones. I made that promise years ago, knowing how much comfort I received from reading the stories and blogs of others going through the same things as myself. We’re so afraid to share anything that could be seen as less-than, we’re cutting off parts of ourselves, making us incomplete.
And if we’re courageous, and put aside those false anxieties, we all become allies.
Now, I was totally exhausted after an hour and fifteen minutes of sitting up straight in the chair and being chatty and animated, and didn’t even wait until I got home to take off my bra. I wonder if anyone on the freeway noticed me pulling it from under my dress! My boots were off as soon as I came in the door. I wiped off my makeup and took down my hair. My dress, while comfortable, was exchanged for yoga pants and a tank top. And the transformation was noticeable. The on and off Me.
I crashed for an hour and a half after my shift ended. But this cost was worth the day.