Storyliving Newsletter

Live a full life. Tell beautiful stories. Awaken change in others.

The reel I posted telling my story two days ago has gone viral.

It’s worth the 90 second watch here.​

Saturday morning I read a comment from a dancer named Elias, “so you became a content creator instead?”

I could have handled the comment by itself… the real trigger came from the fact that it was the most liked comment BY FAR with over 100 likes.

That means people agreed with this guy.

There was one response to that comment from a man named Jack which read, “sad that’s all u took from this.”

Jack is right. Elias missed the whole point. One of the main points of the video is that I am far more than a content creator.

I had to respond.

I had to let Elias and everyone else who were going to like this comment know how much more I am than a content creator.

I had to explain myself.

I could feel the defensiveness welling up in me. A deep desire to be fully seen and understood. To not be disliked. To not be seen as something less than who I need people to see me as.

I began scripting my response in my head, “No. I am far more than that.” I would plead. “I am a storyteller. I am a runner and a tennis player. I am good friend. I am a son, a brother and soon to be uncle…”

I stopped as I noticed the contraction deepening in my body.

I began asking myself, “Why am I so hell bent on rejecting being a content creator?”

Isn’t it interesting how quickly we can abandon ourselves just to make sure we are not abandoned by others?

—

On Christmas Eve I went with my brother to drop off a gift to his pastor, Father John. Over a glass of egg nog at his kitchen island he told a story of the homily he gave last Christmas Eve.

Last year he met a man who’s mother survived the holocaust as a little girl, but the man had no idea about this until he was 16 and met some distant relatives in Germany.

He asked his mom why she never told him and she said, “I never wanted you to grow up hating anyone. I wanted you to love all people.”

Father John lit up telling us how he went home to turn this beautiful story of love into his homily for Christmas Eve. Once he got it all worked out, he was so excited for his sermon that year. He knew he had a beautiful story and lesson to share with the church. After he delivered the homily at mass he did in fact receive high praise from clergy and congregation.

Then, a few weeks later they were working on their website when they found a one-star Yelp review absolutely ripping the homily apart. They shared how the pastor said the word “hate” a hundred times and they left the mass feeling horrible on Christmas Eve.

Father John is laughing so hard as he tells this story. He thinks it’s the funniest thing.

I sipped my egg nog and said, “well… you can’t please everyone.”

—

In the last 7-8 years I have wrongly scoffed at my one time per year attendance at church with my family on Christmas. I knew this was wrong of me and I was very excited to attend this year and see what I could learn from this 2,000 year old religion.

That night at the 11pm Christmas Eve mass, Father John gave the most impassioned sermon I have ever heard. “Fear is served up to us every day on a silver platter and you can take it!”

He reminded the congregation that we do not live a life free of fear and hate, but instead we have endless opportunities to transmute fear and hate into love. I was so enamored with his passion and enthusiasm that I audibly gasped in between the silence of his words wishing I was in call-in-response church so I could scream “Hallelujah!”

Father John stepped off the altar and before taking his seat left us with one final remark, “For those of you who were here last year, I gave a sermon that not everyone loved. And I just wanted to thank you for giving me a second chance.”

My brother turned to me and we smiled knowing the story of the Yelp review.

—

I see so much of myself in Father John.

In his kitchen, I saw his passion and excitement as he told us of the story of the holocaust survivor and how he was going to sit down at his desk and mold this story into a beautiful homily for his congregation. I know that feeling because it’s the exact same feelings I have when I get to sit down and extract the juice from an experience and turn it into a story. It’s our art. A reflection of our soul expressed in physical form.

I could feel the pain beneath his laughter as he recalled the Yelp review because I know exactly what it feels like when something from your soul is received poorly.

I know how wonderful it is to receive 100 comments that tell you how beautiful your work is yet still… that one hateful comment lingers like a sun burn after a perfect day at the beach.

I thought about Father John’s story all day and the way he laughed as he recalled the Yelp review to my brother and me. I couldn’t help but to wonder if he was truly at peace with the review. If it was truly funny or if laughing was his way of coping with the pain. It’s obviously something still on his mind so much that that he not only felt compelled enough to share with my brother and I, but 9 hours later bring up to the entire church and thank the congregation for a second chance.

I don’t know if he is at peace with that Yelp review, but I do know this. He got me, someone who has been rejecting organized religion for the past 8 years, to involuntarily gasp in agreement.

He did not let fear and hate dim his truth.

He did not abandon himself to appease the crowd.

He was not focused on needing to convince anyone of anything.

He stood on on that altar in front of hundreds of people on Christmas Eve, and with the potential of being misunderstood and disliked again, he spoke with power, passion, conviction and love for his belief in Jesus Christ.

So I had a choice to make about this comment.

Avoid it. Not respond at all.

Defend myself. Reject the idea that I became a content creator and explain to this guy that I’m so much more than that and hope he understands me.

Or speak my truth from a place of love and conviction.

My truth is that I love being a content creator. Being a content creator has changed my life. Not just from a marketing perspective, but from a spiritual one. In the same way Father John didn’t shrink in the face of fear and hate, creating content has taught me not to shrink. It’s taught me to transmute fear and hate into love.

Fear and hate won’t go away. It will be served to us on platter every single day. I am not perfect transmuting it, but I have gotten really good at it in all areas of life.

I know being a content creator isn’t the extent of my identity. I know who I am and I know Elias’ negative perceptions of what a content creator is or someone who sells online courses isn’t who I am. I don’t need to justify myself to others to be at peace with that.

My greatest pain has always come from only being happy if everyone else is happy, but my biggest lesson this year is that I can only receive love to the extent that I love myself. My comment will be the practice of self love.

Just as I told Father John, “you can’t please everyone,” but you can always please yourself.

You can please yourself by learning to unapologetically love your story, your truths, and your beliefs.

So I did my best to respond from that place.

AND NOW MY COMMENT HAS MORE LIKES THAN HIS!!! SUCK ON THAT MOTHER F*CKER!!!!!!! I AM GETTING MORE LOVE THAN YOU AREEEEEE!!! 😝😝😝

….

lol. I said I’m not perfect at it.

Happy new year.

Love,

Matt

PS - If you liked this story, then you’ll love the Storyliving Bootcamp starting on January 5th. I’ll teach you how to turn your life experiences into stories that connect you more deeply with your audience. It’s 20% off through the end of the year. Sign up for $120 or learn more by clicking here.​

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