Even in your inner circle, few will speak the truth. Facades, walls, fortifications, illusions, masks. They are your daily armor, second nature to you now. It’s hard to feel that life was once real, long before this. You were real, so full of passion and dreams and belief. The Calling coursed through your blood with every breath, you were willing to work harder, fight harder, sacrifice more, claim and sustain your own belief, over and over again, until…you made it. Though, as you well know, there is no “making it” – no permanent summit to reach. You win an Oscar or a Grammy and you go back to work. You keep climbing.
Or you don’t. And you live in denial of your fear that you’ll never attain such heights again, and everything you do from here on out will disappoint.
No one is ever prepared for the true cost of a highly visible creative career, of fame. It’s so seldom acknowledged even among your peers. Why? Because to attain high visibility, to play at the top of your game, to get to do your art for audiences of millions… it’s a gift. It still humbles you. It’s still surreal. You get to do what you love. It’s a damn good life, right? Right. Without a doubt. You are blessed.
So why does it fucking hurt so much? When did you become a commodity? When did you lose ownership of your own life? When did You disappear?
You slid into the grey the louder the applause got.
Hearts that are tremendously blessed, and broken inside, feel that they have to hide their pain. Or drown it, party it away, numb out. Creatives who have experienced deep wounds because of the creative gifts they’ve been entrusted with in this lifetime, often feel too ashamed to admit that they are deeply hurting. And let’s face it, where can you openly admit it, anyway?
You are simply and utterly disallowed and denied the right to feel anything but happy by the public. How many times have you been absolutely devastated by lies in the press, or a nasty review/critique/tweet, or from a broken relationship or your own depression and have had to swallow your tears and smile? How many times have you told yourself: “You got what you dreamed of, you’re living a life most people can’t imagine, you have no right to complain“?
And the loneliness got worse.
Oh, but this isn’t about complaining, love. This is about finding a sacred space where you stop being a brand name, stop being numbers to negotiate over, stop being a public commodity, and be You.
This is where you are allowed to open your Self to your inner truth. The hard truths. The ones you experience, but cannot reveal, let alone discuss. Like how vulnerable you feel. Or how your heart cracks when your kids read the lies that “everyone” claims are true. Or how no matter how loudly you scream your truth, no one believes you and now, you see doubt in the eyes of those you thought trusted you. Or how perpetually alone you are, because your life is big, fame is burdensome and heavy, and the idea of how your life would impact someone you date convinces you that you don’t have the right to do that to someone. So you don’t.
The more you are seen by the public, the more invisible you are. In this amazing journey you’ve been pummeled, stripped, fucked, killed, threatened, abandoned, crushed, decimated, shattered, pierced, broken. Praised, glorified, thanked, admired, adored. All the while people have you living their dream life, disallowing yours to ever be less than glamorous. The people who make your career possible are the same people who have consumed you like piranhas. Your bones and your craft are all you have left.
Or so it seems.
You put on a smile, crack a joke, appear lighthearted, do all the right things, show up in the right places, be seen with the right people, play the game the way it’s rigged, and wonder how You disappeared.
The echo of emptiness in you gets louder.
It’s true though. You are invisible. Recognized everywhere; never truly seen. Inside your circle, everyone thinks you are doing better than you are. You think everyone else is doing better than they are. No one breaks the illusion. You drink to feel something real, get high to defy the powerlessness, plunge yourself into the only place you feel you still have some control: work.
It’s time to break the illusion. Not with the public, they don’t know the illusion exists. No. It’s time to break the illusion in your own heart.
Not breaking the illusion and isolation of fame is why we lose amazing people to suicide. It’s why we lose amazing people to addiction. It’s why people with brilliant gifts of creative expression stop taking risks, play it safe, and climb the same mountain again and again. It’s why you’ve already thought yeah, right, what the fuck do you know and why should I believe you? Why you’re searching for the catch, waiting for me to tell you how much this is going to cost you (it’s free), why you are sure I want something from you because everyone wants something from you (I don’t) …and yet your heart and soul… keep reading.
You know in your soul these words resonate.
You may have never had anyone willing and capable of seeing the real you, beyond your fame and the illusions. You know as well as I do how rare it is to find anyone who can see what lies beneath and who has no interest in what your brand name has to offer. (You can read why I created this site here.)
Listen. This is real. This is about you. There is no catch. There is no cost. There is only you reading the words I offer here.
Not being able to make yourself heard or being seen for who you really are may feel like just something you have to live with for the rest of your life. I know firsthand the liberating blessing that comes when you bring truths to your own surface. When you start to get your sense of Self back. When you remember Who You Are. And while you cannot change the weight that fame places on your life, you can change how you live your truths and how you carry that weight.
This is your sacred space. And who you are beneath the illusions is a beautiful soul who only ever wanted to make art.
It’s time to leave the grey behind.
It’s time you reclaim your Self.