A Note on the Risk Vs. Reward of Honesty

I have readers overseas. My cousin is one of them. She got a copy of My List, My Rules last year (tap the title to check it out), and this year while I was visiting, we chatted about it. She loved it—I’m glad. But she also asked a very interesting question that no one else has asked me yet.

The question:

“Angie, how do you feel knowing that so many people are reading so many personal details about your life? How are you managing being so vulnerable? I mean, people who know you now know some very private things. After reading the book, they know things they didn’t know before. And people you’ve never even met also know those things.”

That’s a great question

I’ve been asked a lot of questions about my life and my writing, but this was the first time someone addressed the content in this way.

In short: I have a history of being shy, of not wanting to share my stories—made up or real—because, as a kid, I grappled with self-esteem and self-worth. I worried about what people thought of me. I didn’t want any attention at all.

Since those early years, it’s been a steady evolution toward a place of self-acceptance and self-love. And if I live well and honestly in those places, then honestly—who cares if someone else doesn’t accept me?

Sounds easy? Well, it’s not always. It’s been a journey. But I can say that, for the most part, I now live in a space of comfort and authenticity.

Where I am now—and the importance of honesty

I don’t worry about what people think anymore. It’s none of my business what anyone else thinks of me.

That said, I do hope that in sharing my stories, someone out there might feel seen, might connect with what I’ve lived through. I once read that the strongest human vibration—if you believe in that kind of thing—isn’t love, but authenticity.

With authenticity comes honesty: baring your truth, saying, this is who I am, and sending that out into the world with love—hoping it lands well with others. In my case, with my readers. And if it doesn’t? Then I hope at the very least, it leads to good questions.

What I’ve learned:

Life hands us lessons. Our job is to learn from them—and maybe, when we’re ready, help others through what we’ve learned.

I’ve learned that if I don’t love myself, I can’t fully love anyone else. I’ve learned to laugh at myself in all my goofy wonder as I try to accept the good and the not-so-good. And I’ve learned that even when I didn’t make the best decisions, they were the best decisions I could make at the time.

When these stories make it into a book, I don’t feel like I’m oversharing. I feel like I’m offering up connection. I laugh at myself as much as I’m tender with my learning.

“To write something, you have to risk making a fool of yourself.” – Anne Rice

Let me end by inviting you to be more gentle with yourself. More loving. More vulnerable.

As always, thank you for reading—Lovelies.