Your Story is Not You

This week’s episode of the Bachelor has me perplexed. Since the episode ended last night, I have tossed around various ideas of what to write about today…there were certainly a few redeeming moments of the show—when Whitney discussed the importance of being kind to someone even when we didn’t like their actions; when Becca offered empathy and compassion to the Bachelor in the midst of a hard situation. Or when Carly spent time conversing with Chris and asking questions—doing an excellent job of sharing just enough of her heart, experiences and genuine fears in an effort to be known, yet not giving everything away (instead of spending her one-on-one time making out with him.) These were important moments of the night and definitely should not be overlooked. But unfortunately these moments did not stand much of a chance in being some of the pivotal themes of the night due to a few of the other girls’ handling of themselves and their emotions.

For those of you who don’t watch the show, we are introduced to Kelsey at the beginning of the season in a video vignette as she shares with us that she is a widow; her husband passed away abruptly, a mere 18 months ago, due to heart failure. America’s heart went out to this young woman as they embraced her story and her chance to find love again. Kelsey has stayed somewhat in the shadows the entire season, likely due to editing, but has started to make a bit of a name for herself in the past couple episodes which led up to her grand entrance on the episode last night. 

With the other widow being booted off the show in the previous episode, Kelsey now had the most tragic story in the house and she knew it. She began sharing it with the other girls in the house during this episode—catching the girls off guard as to the timing of sharing her story. We hear her say “I can’t go home without him knowing my story”, so without the other girls’ knowledge, Kelsey sneaks to Chris’ room to tell him of the death of her late husband. Awkward is probably a mild word to describe the exchange. As Kelsey shares her story, in depth, the editing cuts back and forth between her conversation and her individual interviews as she talks about how fabulously tragic and amazing her story is. She proclaims that there is undeniable sexual tension between she and Chris and we cut to Kelsey finishing her story and awkwardly planting a passionate kiss on Chris. And, since Chris’ coping skill in all situations awkward (or not awkward) is kissing, he obliges—though his body language indicates he would rather not be there with her. 

Cut to the end of the episode and Chris lets the other women know that Kelsey has shared her story with him—this after she condescendingly shares with the girls how confident she is that she will get a rose tonight. After realizing what is happening the girls begin their chatter and we end the episode with Kelsey on the floor having a ‘panic attack’ as we hear Ashley I.—the self-proclaimed virgin who has spent at least half of her on-air time trying to convince people that it’s not a big deal and and the other half creating drama due to her insecurities over this very same choice—break out in frustration and tears stating, “great, now someone else’s story is more tragic than my own.” 

Drama at it’s finest!

"I'm a virgin, it's not a big deal"--Ashley I.

As I contemplated what to write today, over and over I kept coming back to the overarching theme of the episode being that there were girls who were promoting and defining themselves as women and the totality of who they were based on one choice or one experience. They were viewing their existence among the other women as a game in which they were seeking to come out on top. If I have the most tragic story, I win. If there is another virgin in the house, I lose. And in getting caught up in these mere experiences or choices being what defined them as a woman, so many of these women (who I am sure are truly wonderful) began their demise—when their experience was invalidated so was their identity. 

Now, I am the first one to say that coming through a tragic situation or making a choice that is unpopular in the eyes of others takes an amount of courage. And I would never want to suggest that someone’s experience or decisions weren’t absolutely pivotal in their lives and had a lasting impact on them; we all know that there are certain moments in life that change who we are. But to suggest that one experience or one decision is what makes us who we are entirely, shortchanges our identity and leads to a fragile view of ourselves. Our experiences and choices challenge us, affirm us, devastate us and bring amazing joy into our lives. Sure, sometimes our experiences and choices even seem to beat the hell out of us—bringing us to a place of feeling wrecked for a while. But our choices and situations are just that—choices and situations. They aren’t us. They don’t define the totality of who we are or the essence of our character. Our choices and experiences are a small part of who we are; they are not all of who we are. 

One of my favorite authors, Brene Brown, made a statement that owning of our story is one of the bravest things that we can do—and I agree wholeheartedly. The ownership of our story however, is the sharing of different parts of us—the different experiences, relationships and emotions that have helped us grow, learn and go through the refining process. Loving ourselves through that process makes space for celebrating that our stories are not bigger than us, more attractive than us, more tragic than us or even what defines us.  They are, simply, stories.

My hope for us all is that we would desire for others to be attracted not to our stories but rather the person we became--the person we are--as a result of all of these different cards that life has dealt us. When someone is attracted to us for our character, rather than the character we played in a story, they are worth keeping around!