Learning to Share Myself
How an 80-Year-Old Women’s Circle Taught Me Vulnerability
A Workshop That Became Something More
When I first began facilitating a workshop for a group of women, most of them in their 80s, I didn’t expect the experience to change me. I came prepared with a plan — structured sessions, prompts, and activities meant to guide our time together. But week after week, it became clear that what I had planned wasn’t what they needed. Attendance was low at first. The format felt awkward, uncertain, and too rigid.
So I let go.
Instead of trying to force a workshop structure, I allowed the sessions to evolve into something more organic: a sharing circle. The women didn’t need lessons or exercises; they needed a safe, respectful space to express themselves, share their stories, and simply be heard.
As the weeks went on, this circle became something beautiful — a space where vulnerability flowed naturally. And though I was the facilitator, I wasn’t prepared for the lesson they would ultimately teach me.
Holding Space Without Sharing Myself
I’ve always been good at holding space for others. Whether through yoga classes, one-on-one sessions, or even my time working in healthcare, it feels natural for me to listen deeply and create a safe environment for people to open up.
But as the weeks of the sharing circle passed, I realized something: I wasn’t opening up.
I arrived each time with prompts and questions to spark their conversation, but I rarely shared anything about myself. I told myself it wasn’t my role — I’m here for them, not for me, I would think. And yet, a quiet tension grew inside me. I could sense that one woman in particular — sensitive, spiritual, and very much like me — wanted me to share.
The Moment I Finally Opened Up
It wasn’t until the very last session, after most of the women had left, that I finally shared my story with two of them. We talked — really talked. I let my thoughts and feelings spill out, without overthinking or hiding.
Their response was immediate and heartfelt. They were grateful. They smiled, leaned in, and connected with me in a way they hadn’t before. For the first time, I felt seen.
And I realized that my silence all those weeks had kept me from the very connection I craved. I had been holding myself back — not just in that circle, but in my entire life.
A Lifetime of Holding Back
The truth is, I’ve spent most of my life afraid to show my true self. Afraid of rejection. Afraid that if people saw who I really was — my sensitivity, my spirituality, my uniqueness — they wouldn’t accept me.
Ironically, I’ve always longed for deep, authentic connection. But I didn’t see how my fear of vulnerability was the very thing preventing it.
This realization wasn’t entirely new. A while ago, during a client’s hypnosis session, her higher self turned to me — speaking through her — and said, “Share yourself with the world, Pascale.” At the time, I brushed it off, thinking I already did. But in truth, I wasn’t.
The Women Who Healed Me
Those women — wise, kind, and unafraid to share their hearts — healed something in me. By witnessing their openness, I was inspired to finally let myself be seen.
It was messy and imperfect. It took ten weeks of silence and self-reflection before I could finally speak up. But when I did, the connection was instant, real, and healing.
Learning to Be Seen
This experience has become a mirror for my life. It’s showing me that the fear of rejection I’ve carried — especially in relation to my family — has been holding me back from living fully and authentically.
For years, I misunderstood my father’s acceptance of me. I assumed he wanted me to be someone different, someone more like him. And because of this, I hid. I stopped sharing my thoughts, my feelings, and especially my spiritual experiences, even with the people I love most.
But now, I’m starting to see things differently. I’m realizing that being seen begins with being willing to show yourself — even if it’s uncomfortable, even if you risk being misunderstood.
The Real Gift of This Circle
What started as a workshop became a circle of trust, a space for connection. But more than that, it became the catalyst for my own healing.
These women taught me that connection isn’t just about holding space for others — it’s about stepping into that same space yourself.
And so, as I move forward, I carry this question with me:
What would my life look like if I stopped holding back? What would happen if I let the world see all of me — sensitivity, spirituality, and all?
I think I’m ready to find out.
Comments