Have You Always Been Like This?

“Have you always been like this?” The question flies at me from across the audience. It has been posed by a man who is standing against the wall, quite obviously waiting for an answer.

There is something about his words that I initially mistake for aggressivity and for a second, I am not sure what to say.

This is the end of a full two hours of “Ask Laura,” an event where I basically show up, stand in front of a room full of people and answer whatever questions they throw my way. This is an opportunity to hopefully pass on some helpful words to people who may not ordinarily work with a coach. While it is an exciting time for me, it is a little unnerving also, as I am most definitely there with no preparation; in front of a lot of eyes.

A few laughs follow his question as I extract myself away from my original assumption and ask him quietly: “What do you mean?”

This is when he tells me that he wonders whether I have had to work at being a happy person or whether “I was just born that way.”

His request seems genuine enough and as I work my way toward the most truthful answer I have, I let go of most of my uneasiness about the question.

Most of it.

Two days later, I am sitting in a coffee shop, writing an article, when a woman walks in and sits at a table next to me. Two other people are already around the table, sipping something warm and the three of them immediately begin chatting.

Within a couple of minutes, I overhear that she has just finished running for 24 hours. Yep, a 24-hour race. All of a sudden, my article seems much less important and I am clearly eavesdropping. The woman is now explaining about headlamps and gooey energy gel food and I can feel my eyes sliding from my article to her body. She is about my age and her legs are those of a statue. Her arms make me want to grab a piece of charcoal and capture them on a napkin.

Of course, as we tender humans often do, I am quickly superimposing her situation with mine. I am comparing what I am guessing to be her perfectly toned belly to what I know to be my … less than perfectly toned belly. I am comparing her performance of late with the way I get a little out of breath climbing the local library steps (which are very steep, thank you very much).

It is no fun.

And that is when I hear myself wonder: “Has she always been like this?”

Bingo.

All of a sudden, I get it. I get the man’s question and I get what he was really asking for: Hope.

When faced with something we desire, we need hope. So, we ask for hope.

What the man from the event was really asking me was “Do I have a chance at being happy too? Can I change?”

What I was really wondering, sitting in the coffee shop was “Do I have a chance at a toned belly, too? Can I change?”

Because really, if it is all a pre-assigned sort of thing, then we might as well all go back to bed right now.

On the other hand, if we can stand in front of someone whom we admire and hear that “they have not always been like this,” now we have hope. Now, we can relax a little and start asking questions.

Big difference.

And I see now that this is partly why, in my work and in my life, I have always been committed to letting others see where I have been.

This is why I take a breath, during a call with a client who is ashamed of her tax troubles and tell her about my own scary two-year adventure within the world of the IRS.

This is why, during a book signing, I talk briefly with a young woman who has not been able to find a job in a long time and is now beginning to feel desperate about money; why I tell her about the time when I once fed my kids from a box I had picked up at the food bank.

This is why I willingly tell those very kids about the times I have messed up and this is also why I have occasionally let them see me with a broken heart.

Because for these people to know me today, at peace with the IRS, solvent, functional and happy gives them hope.

Specifically because “I have not always been like this.” And hope is good stuff.

So, let’s put some of our self-consciousness aside and share our beautiful, unique life colors with those who ask. Let’s contribute to the rich brew of fully lived experiences so that we may also drink from its cup.

Finally, let’s remember the excitement that springs from intentional change and from celebrating who we are today.

Especially if “we have not always been like this.”