When I got into seventh grade, something strange happened.

I started getting attention from girls like I never had before.

For a kid who grew up with low self-esteem, it felt completely foreign.

One day I headed over to my friend John’s house. His cousin Diane was there waiting for me.

She was in eighth grade and liked me, a seventh grader!

We sat together in John’s basement talking.

As we talked, she moved a little closer…and a little closer.

Then I realized she was about to kiss me.

There was just one problem.

I’d never kissed anyone before.

As I watched her lean in, I did something that surprised even me.

I jumped off the couch, sprinted up the basement steps, burst through the door, and was in a full sprint to my house.

Halfway there my thoughts finally caught up with my feet.

“What in the world am I doing?”

So I turned around.

I walked all the way back to John’s house, back down into the basement, looked Diane in the eye, and said, “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

She smiled.

She thought it was cute.

And then she very kindly taught me.

I still laugh every time I think about that story.

But over the years I’ve realized it taught me something much bigger than how to kiss.

It taught me that life often rewards honesty and vulnerability.

It takes courage to admit we don’t know something.

It takes courage to ask for help and to come clean.

I’ve coached people through addiction, affairs, family conflict, shame, and secrets they’ve carried for years.

I’ve never found a situation where honesty wasn’t part of the path toward freedom.

When we’re hiding, we’re trapped.

When we’re honest, something begins to loosen.

There’s a lightness and aliveness.

That’s why, when I was raising my kids, I told them they could make a thousand mistakes.

There was only one rule.

Be honest.

Not because I needed it.

Because I wanted them to experience the freedom that honesty brings.

I think much of the stress we carry comes from trying to hold everything inside.

Those hidden burdens become invisible cages which do all sorts of things to our lives including making us sick.

It doesn’t have to stay that way.

If you’re carrying something heavy today, maybe the first step isn’t running.

Maybe it’s turning around, going back, and telling someone safe the truth.

And if you don’t have someone safe to talk to, just hit reply.

I’d be honored to listen on a complimentary call.

I’m still grateful to Diane—not just for my first kiss—but for one of the first lessons that showed me honesty has a way of setting us free.

May each day be as thrilling as your first kiss,

Bert

www.bertastacio.com