A Story To Be Told

I am going to back track for a minute. I want to get clear on what it is that I am intending to say here. I also want to talk about the why. Why Legacy? Why this story? And what does that even mean?

To be honest, the need for clarity is much more mine then anyone reading this. It feels big and broad and daunting even. Yet, strangely, I have a solid knowing that this, this moment of time, this topic of conversation, this writing challenge, this blog, this right here….it is exactly where I need to be. Even with the lack of clarity.

A little over two years ago I was sitting at a Life Coaching immersion weekend. It was intense experience to say the least. We were in the middle of digging through our past and talking about all our past “haunts”. When it was my turn I shared about my own personal struggles with an eating disorder. This was not a new conversation for me. I had been talking and dealing with this for years. I felt confident I could navigate my way through this “tell all” pretty smoothly. I’d share my stuff, get some insight, make lists of what I should work on, and we’d move onto the next person. However, since we were here to really dig it all up, I was pushed a little until I went deep. My family history came up. The conversation started to go places I was not prepared for. I, almost unconsciously, mentioned the women in my family who also suffered from eating disorders including my aunt who passed away when I was twelve from anorexia.

The reaction in the room was one of pain. They looked at me with compassion and confusion. How could I be so matter of fact about it all? Truth was, I had no answer to that. It was pretty nuts. But it was our nuts. This is what we knew. It was our normal. In all my self-help, self-analysis, self-exploration....I had not gotten outside myself to see the bigger picture here, the connections.

The particular life coaching method I was working with was based on a principle, or belief, that we pick our lives. Meaning, before we are born we actually pick our parents and life situations to best prepare us for our life’s mission. I liked this principle. The whole idea that my life was delicately designed for me to fulfill a purpose, fit for me. My only twist on this was that I believed God did the picking with me. He was the one designing and making connections to my purpose. It is all part of his plan. I could totally buy that.

The facilitator of the weekend looked right at me and asked “So Becca, why do you think you picked this family? This family of women sharing this struggle? What is your purpose here?”

That question hit me in the gut. Like chills up and down my spine kind of moment. Her words were simple but to me, big. They were true and they did what I believe they were meant to do, ignite. God knew what He was doing.

There was a story to be told. Not just mine but also one of generations. One of women deeply rooted together. A Legacy.

However, surprise surprise, I was not ready. It felt too enormous of a task to take on. How to make the connections. Not the obvious ones but the underneath ones. I had no clue how to move on this or what it meant.

But the seed had been planted and was growing.

Fast-forward a few months. My oldest daughter, who was 9 at the time, started wearing big bulky sweatshirts when it is 90 degrees out with the very clear need to cover up. I recognized what was going on and my stomach sank. What?! How? I had worked so hard and long at making sure she never went down this road. How did we end up here? How did this get passed down? How did the unconsciously unspoken parts of me become so loud for my daughter? How is this my legacy?

My mission brought to me once again.

I took some action. I made some moves. I started a new conversation with the women in my family. I have reached out to all my aunts and cousins who, I must mentioned, do not all struggle with eating disorders. However, we all share countless other gifts, quirks, and thorns in our sides that make us family. Actually, we share more then just our sense of humor, dance moves, and body types.

Our inner workings, our hearts, have been delicately woven together. God had his hand in all of it. It is not a coincidence easily blown over that we all ended up, here, doing this life together. This is a powerhouse of women that, when cracked open and vulnerable, can shine so bright that the Legacy we’d leave would be one of Light.

Then, after I started the conversation, I slowly backed up once again. Not knowing where to take it next totally intimidated me. I was stuck in the "Who am I to think I can do this?' mode.

No matter how big this has felt, how daunting it seems, no matter how much I try to push this aside to be something I maybe take on "one day", it continues to gnaw at me. No matter what I think, God has made it clear He is not letting up. There is a story to be told.