For several weeks now, I’ve been writing here and there about overarching principles that guide my life, most of which are squarely rooted in Christian Scripture, tradition, and praxis; most of which are, then, Christian in ethos. Thus far, I’ve shared the following, which constitutes about half of the list:
In today’s post, I offer up another one that has, for many years, guided me and served me well: advocate for yourself, rarely will anyone else. This also encapsulates the idea: stick up for yourself, rarely will anyone else. Now, to some, that might sound like cynicism. It’s not. I’ve had enough life experience to know that, many times when you think people have your back, they really don’t. Their way of being there for you when you’re in a bind is to leave a Post-it Note that says, “Good luck!”
In this life, people will say they support you. Sometimes, they’ll even say it to your face. Sometimes even at a wedding altar in front of others. Many times what they really mean is they’ll support the version of you that never causes them inconvenience, never asks them to walk through the marshes of pain with you, and never requires mutual sacrifice.
Again, this isn’t cynicism; this is real life. I’ve had to speak up for myself more times than I can count. In church leadership settings, academia, family drama, weird business meetings, short- and long-term relationships, among a room full of comedians, and so on. I’ve sat in rooms where no one would say the obvious thing, so I opened my big mouth and said it. And then everyone stared at me like I’d just pissed in the baptistry.
The fact is: you learn real quick that people will cheer you on privately and vanish publicly. I’ve had colleagues tell me, “You’re saying what we’re all thinking. I’ll stand with you behind the scenes but I can’t risk doing so publicly.” So ridiculous! All they were doing was saying their stupid platitudes safely behind closed doors, meanwhile I was out front getting pegged with stones and tomatoes.
It’s like, “I sooo believe in you and agree with you, I just don’t want to lose my Employee of the Month parking spot.” Ugh! The thing is: if I don’t speak up, who will? And if you don’t, who will? Most people are too busy avoiding conflict and protecting their image to consider the value of advocating for themselves, much less anyone else. But here’s what’s key about this: when you show up and speak up, you set the tone for how others are allowed to treat you. And sometimes that tone is “I will absolutely light this relationship or whatever you call it on fire if you keep trying to play these games with me.”
I’ve learned that silence rarely saves or serves you. It often just gives people more time to misrepresent you. Now, I can think of some examples where keeping your mouth shut is beneficial. I get that such situations exist. It takes wisdom to discern such situations. But much of the time it is worth it to speak up. And when you do, yes, it can be lonely, no doubt about that. Speaking up has cost me jobs, relationships, gigs, and promotions. It’s caused me a lot of headache, heartache, and grief.
Even so, I’ve never once regretted telling the truth with my full chest. EVER! My conscience is 100% clear in that realm. I’ve never once regretted choosing clarity and transparency over comfort. EVER! Wanna know why? Because comfort doesn’t have your back when you get thrown under the bus. There’s nothing comfortable about that. And here’s one of the craziest parts about all this: the beauty of sticking up for yourself is that it creates space for others to do the same. Even the very people who’ve betrayed you!!!
When you advocate for yourself, you become both a mirror and a megaphone. When people see you draw a line, something inside them tells them they can, too. I’ve stood up for friends who were being bullied, steamrolled, ignored, scapegoated, and gaslighted. And again, it cost me. Sometimes dearly. Sometimes greatly. But if you're not willing to lose something for someone else, your loyalty is more like a discount subscription than a covenant with them.
But to be able to speak up like this, you have to know your worth. And others’ worth, too. You have to value your story, your voice, your boundaries. If you don’t, someone else will come along and price it at clearance and treat it as such. And if you're not careful, you’ll start agreeing with them. You’ll start apologizing for being the only one who told the truth in the room. That, in fact, is one of the many things I love about stand-up comedy: I get to stand up on a stage, in front of a room of people, and speak up. I get to tell my stories on my terms. Few things are as freeing as that. The bonus is: it makes people laugh.
You’ve probably noticed, just as I have though, that people who get mad when you stand up for yourself are usually the ones who most benefitted from your silence. These freakin’ cowards will try to spin it when you finally stand up and speak up. They’ll call you mean, paint you as aggressive, say you’re unkind, and sometimes attempt to portray you as the bully. But those who call you “harsh” and say things like this are usually just mad that they can’t manipulate you anymore. Period!
And the ones who say “this could’ve been handled privately” are usually the ones who denied your private attempts to talk. I’ve seen it so many times, especially in churches, workplaces that have the name “Christian” in them, and academic institutions with the name “Christian” in them. It’s an utter travesty. Those folks, being the manipulators and gas-lighters they are, as soon as you expose their darkness, will say you’re disobeying Mt 18 and they’ll try to manipulate you once more into silence. Bullcrap! Horse crap! Don’t fall for that.
You’ve got to advocate for yourself. And you’ve got to do so wisely, boldly, clearly, and consistently. And then you’ll be able to sleep well knowing you didn’t let someone else write your story in pencil and ask you to sign it in ink. After all, the ones who truly know you, love you, and respect you won’t be offended when you speak with courage. They’ll be relieved you finally did. And when the dust settles, when the emails are sent, when the awkward meetings end, and the group texts go silent, you’ll still be standing. A little scarred, sure. But standing. More bulletproof than before. More able to laugh than before. More self-control than before. And that’s worth more than anyone’s opinions or applause.