My Vulnerability Hangover
In this newsletter, I share my personal struggles, the power of embracing our humanity, and the tools to navigate fear with compassion.
Join me as I reflect on vulnerability, shadow work, and the journey of choosing love over fear. Let's continue healing together, one step at a time. Sending love to all your tender parts.
Hello, my friends,
I woke up last Monday feeling under the weather, carrying a deep sense of vulnerability after leading the Mind Body Workshop. My heart raced, and there was a pit in my stomach. The little girl inside me, who still craves perfection and having it all together, was so loud, telling me I shouldn’t have shared such raw parts of myself. But this is the heart of what I teach—shadow work. It’s about bringing those unconscious, wounded parts of ourselves into the light to be held with love and care. Though deeply ingrained, these patterns are not who we are; they are survival mechanisms we’ve picked up along the way because, at our core, we all long to belong.
Even after all these years of practicing and teaching this work, it remains my daily truth. In that packed room, I shared how fear has been a constant companion in my life. Fear of being seen, trying new things and stepping out into the world authentically—especially around new people. I can't remember a time when fear wasn’t there. But now, it's about making a conscious choice: will fear be the loudest voice, or will I let love lead? It’s not that I’m no longer afraid. It’s that I’ve learned to let love be the louder voice, guiding me forward.
I also expressed a long-held belief that no one would attend a retreat or workshop if I led it alone. I was invited to facilitate retreats for years, but I always said no unless I had a co-host. Last year, I took the plunge and led my first solo retreat. Let me tell you, I was terrified no one would come. But the most beautiful group of women (and one man) showed up, and it was such a cherished time together. Fear was still with me, but love spoke louder.
At the workshop, I admitted that some of me believed no one would have come if I wasn’t co-hosting with Jed. I had never said that publicly before, only to close friends and Eric. And afterward, I felt vulnerable and embarrassed for sharing so openly. But here’s the beauty: I got to practice what I teach. I acknowledged those stories my wounded parts were telling, felt them in my body, loved on them, and spoke truer stories to myself. This is work I will continue to do for the rest of my life. I haven’t arrived anywhere, I don’t have it all together, and I am far from perfect. But that’s why this work is so powerful—it permits us to be beautifully human.
I don’t center my work on myself, but I share my shadow parts to remind my clients that they also get to be so human and are completely worthy of love. I don’t want to sit under any teacher who pretends to have it all together or denies their struggles. I’ve never met anyone who has no shadow parts. We all have stories, we all have patterns, we all have wounds. The people I learn from are honest about this and show up with tools and practices to keep returning to love. When teachers act as if they don’t struggle, I just moonwalk out of there. :)
This week, I had the privilege of hearing Prentis Hemphill speak in an interview with my dear sister, Noor Tagouri. They spoke truthfully about healing—how it never looks how we expect, how we never fully arrive, and how messy it can be. Everything they said resonated deeply with me; I felt like they were speaking truths that my body already knew. I wish I had recorded their talk (and I will be reading their book What It Takes To Heal immediately). After all, I found myself nodding yes, over and over. I know Prentis is the kind of teacher I deeply respect and want to keep learning from.
We are never meant to be perfect. We are meant to be so beautifully human. The more grace and compassion we show to our scared, wounded parts, the more we can extend that grace to others. When we love ourselves in this way, we also show others they deserve love. That’s my deepest hope for you. As you read this, I hope you can soften toward those harsh stories you tell yourself, the patterns you’ve come to hate, and the wounds you carry. Every single part of you belongs here, my beautiful friend.
I will continue to do this work, and even when it feels raw and scary, I’ll keep sharing my journey with you. I pray it creates a little more space within you to do the same for yourself because you are so, so deserving of love. We all are.
Sending love to every tender part of you,
Ruthie
The Invitation of Pain In-Person Event
When we experience pain, we are instructed to medicalize our pain to make it go away. We learn to see our bodies as the enemy and forget the identity outside of the pain. But we can learn to experience and understand pain differently, even coming to see pain as the route back home to who we really are. In this way, the pain becomes the invitation back to our bodily selves - reminding us how to love ourselves more fully, teaching us that we can heal regardless of whether the pain goes away or not.
Explore a new perspective on pain with Ruthie Lindsey and Hillary McBride. On November 16th, 2024, this event in Nashville offers a chance to rethink how you relate to pain and discover new pathways to wellness. Connecting with ourselves through our bodies is valuable; experiencing this together in person can enhance that connection to another level. We hope you’ll join us for this meaningful experience. Click the link below to learn more about this event and purchase your ticket.
I relate to the vulnerability hangover. I've been considering how I can adequately tell you what an incredible impact you had on me at your workshop. Similarly to you listening to Prentis and Noor, "I felt like [you] were speaking truths that my body already knew. I wish I had recorded [your] talk[s]... After all, I found myself nodding yes, over and over." That was me listening to your sessions, Ruthie. This might seem trivial, but I'm not sure why I chickened out getting a picture with you on the last day. I think I surprised myself by asking Jed for one, and then I convinced myself I was a bother doing the same with you (I am also in a time of learning how to move from a place of love instead of fear). Of the two of you, I've only read your book so far- There I Am. I would have absolutely been there if it was just you. I know that's not ultimately the point you're making, and I also know it's nice to receive words of affirmation every once in a while. Thank you for being you and sharing your experience so honestly.