Transcriber: ali ismail Reviewer: Rana Al kilaney
As you experience life, you create.
You assign the meaning to what happens.
You give the reasons. You create the whys, the stories.
And it's in those created stories.
We either feed or kill our self expression and voice.
The other day I was just walking from the grocery store to my car,
and this precious child, about four years old, had no problem announcing to me.
I have new shoes with lights.
She had a big voice and no problem with self expression.
How wonderful to be able to approach anyone with genuine connection,
warmth and no fear. No fear. Now, if you think about that, that is freedom.
Freedom to be in the moment.
Freedom to be and express who you truly are without the fear of judgement
or that you're wrong. I used to be that little girl.
I remember riding down the street on my new Schwinn bike with
a red blanket tied around my neck because I was super girl, don't you know?
I was. And that blanket would fly behind me like a cape.
And I knew I could do anything and be anything.
I remember feeling like that that superwoman cape has been
a big part of my journey and voice as a professional singer,
award winning actress...
…bestselling author, producer and 30 year corporate executive.
I am so grateful that I found my voice and self expression,
but it wasn't always an easy road.
You see, I wanted to be a doctor and I wanted to change the world.
But life's experiences and the meaning I gave those experiences made it
a little difficult. Imagine I'm 12 and
I think my arms are going to be pulled out of their sockets
as I'm being dragged out to the camper that's sitting in our front driveway.
The smell of cheap Cologne is overpowering,
like my father had drenched himself in it to cover up the pain
and shame of what he's about to do.
He pulls me up to the bed on top of the cab, and I'm not resisting because
I think it's my fault. And I'm so ashamed and scared.
No one can know about this.
I stare up at the campus ceiling and I pray no one will hear me if I let out
a scream. And I don't feel any pain because I'm numb and
I leave my body to float up to the corner of the camper,
disconnected from the rate that is happening.
I lost my freedom that day.
I lost my freedom of self expression and my voice.
I learned to hide emotionally and physically.
I learned to shrink to avoid being noticed , to not speak up.
And I abandoned my own wants and needs.
Having the ever present feeling of not enough and shame. Follow me.
I created the story that I deserved this.
I had told my mother about the first inappropriate touch
a couple of months prior, and both parents had sat me down,
told me it was not my fault. I did nothing wrong.
But everything changed after that.
My mother started to withdraw from everything,
had to be knocked out on pills every night and receiving shock treatments
for her depression and anxiety.
My father started to visit my room a couple nights a week after that,
telling me it was my fault that my mother was going through hell because
I opened my mouth. And the camper rape happened a couple of months after that.
My father started to call me Big Mouth after that.
And with that label, Big Mouth,
I created the story that I couldn't open my mouth
or I’d ruin someone’s life like my mother’s life.
And that story cost me.
My self expression and voice for many years
because it’s in our created stories.
We either feed or kill our self expression and voice.
Now, maybe you don't have the same secrets or the same story,
but I’m wondering if in your life
you have some past experience where you created the story.
That you couldn’t open your mouth or that you can’t
or you shouldn’t.
For me, I carried that story of being wrong and bad
and having to prove myself over and over again every decade of my life.
The first was high school. You remember how you felt in high school, don't you?
It was a daily challenge, right?
Talk about the stories we made up about ourselves there.
It was in high school that I discovered acting.
The great thing about acting was I could be somebody else. I really could.
I loved expressing the emotion of the characters because I could cry
and get angry and it was safe because it wasn't me.
And there were no consequences for bad behavior or language.
It was all scripted.
I could live safely in my created characters.
I landed the starring role in three musicals straight and people.
Well, to my surprise, they liked me.
Like Sally Fields said, when she accepted her Oscar in 1985...
…I wanted that dream.
Performing gave me some self-esteem and my confidence,
and my story began to be I was good and talented,
and my story this time fed my self-expression and voice.
I began to find my voice literally and figuratively.
So I moved out of the house my first year of college on a full scholarship,
and I came home one weekend and my father was the only one that was home.
He went through my bag and found my birth control pills.
He confronted me, grabbing me, saying the very confusing and ironic statement.
You should be saving yourself for your husband.
I thought he was going to kill me as he overpowered me and tied me to the bed.
It was the most violent rape and the last time.
At 20, I thought I would have enough courage and tell one other person,
my older brother. And when he confronted my father,
my dad went on a rampage looking for the gun in the attic. We all had to hide.
And all I could think to myself was...
…My big mouth had done it again.
I called the house. My father answered.
He couldn’t speak, and all I could say was...
…I’m sorry, Dad. I’m so sorry.
Taking on the story that I was actually responsible for everything
again.
So I went to my job that night trying to act normal,
putting on that superwoman cape. I had a singing waitress job.
I had a lot of jobs in college, actually. I was a horrible waitress.
And actually, with my big mouth,
I had some choice words for some inappropriate customers.
So that didn't last long. And retail. It was kind of boring.
So I didn't like that either. But that didn't stop me from shopping a lot.
So I found safety, security and a consistent paycheck in
the health care field. So for the next ten years,
I put on that familiar superwoman cape and
I climbed that corporate ladder of success.
And being really successful in the corporate arena.
I found that I wanted to write. I wanted to help others who were struggling.
So I joined a woman's book anthology project,
and I wrote a chapter called Powerful,
Purposeful Living Nothing about the Abuse.
And all 25 authors gathered in a room with a marketing expert.
And the marketing expert asked us, Are wise. Why did we want to write a chapter?
And so I thought about it and I thought I'd share my story of sexual abuse
for the first time in public.
25 women and a marketing expert and the marketing expert was very kind.
And when I was done, he said, I'm really sorry you went through that,
but no one wants to hear that. No, I screamed on the inside.
They brought back the pain and shame, and I just shrunk again.
Never mind that my chapter was on choice and responsibility because
I didn't have to listen to what he said. But guess what? I did. And my story.
I was bad, irrelevant. And what I had to say was wrong.
I didn't write for another 15 years because
our created stories either feed or kill our self expression and voice.
So after that I thought, I have some work to do.
So I went to therapy.
And after several therapists, I found one who really helped me change everything.
Howard was a trauma and family psychotherapist and
the only one who asked to record our sessions.
I remember being wrapped up in a blanket by my fireplace in
the dark listening to the first two hour tape session, two hours.
And I was praying that maybe this time this therapist would have the answer
on page 251 of his therapist book, How to Fix a Broken Person.
They don't have those books. They do know they don't have those books. They don't.
All right. But I still prayed that he would have the answer and tell me what
I had to do to leave the shame. Not enough feeling behind once and for all.
When I listened to that tape, there was no question about what I was still doing.
I heard the familiar. I'm okay.
And every answer I gave that superwoman cape had helped me hide.
I had been doing that for years, still proving that I was strong,
that I had it all together.
I wanted to show the therapist I was a good person and all I needed was
for him to validate that.
That tape made me realize
that I had to have the critical courage to do the work,
to be raw and honest about my own creative stories about me.
What I felt I couldn't and shouldn't do or say or be.
And where were those stories born?
When I release the need for that external validation,
when I release the pain of that label, big Mouth,
when I release the responsibilities that were not mine
and replaced it with accountability for my life today,
I reconnected with that wonderful, creative, loving person.
I lost years before that one night in that camper.
As we live our lives, we create stories about who we are based
on those experiences and those stories either feed or kill our self expression
and voice. Sometimes you just want to put on that Superman or superwoman cape
and not address the underlying Kryptonite that is derailing your choices,
causing your pain and fear and blocking your self-expression.
You might not even be aware of it.
When you can identify your stories, name them and talk about them.
You can make the conscious choice to move past them, reconnect to your essence,
to your life force, to what makes you unique.
You are free to voice your opinion,
Create from your heart, share your ideas,
Find your way to be real. Be honest and express yourself.
No apology, no excuses
like that little girl with her shoes, with lights.
So after reclaiming my voice, I started my acting and singing again.
And then one day, ten years ago,
I was at a benefit for the troops called Hogs and Horses. Yes, it's a real thing.
Cowboys, motorcycles and horses.
And there was a handsome cowboy walking around the room,
having no problem attracting attention.
And that old voice in my head said, You're not good enough.
I said, Yeah, I'm going to have some critical courage.
Be strong, take a chance.
Especially since he looked like he just rode in from a cattle drive.
Cowboy tall.
Sexy, my type. And when he came around,
we hit it off and I found the love of my life.
Thank you. We.
We perform regularly with our country band.
And we even have an original best Song nomination for one of the films
I starred in a few years ago.
That film brought 23 International Film Festival Awards,
including two Best Actress awards for me.
I was excited. So in closing,
I leave you with this invitation to look at your own life,
to be honest about any walls or stories you're making up about you.
Those self destructive stories that kill yourself,
expression and voice and keep you from living free and following your heart
and your creativity and your dreams.
Put on your shoes with lights. Shameless.
No apology, no excuses. And step into your unique voice.
Your power of self expression.
Oh, and by the way
Today I’m on the stage embracing my big mouth.
Wow
Thank you.