I want you to see someone coping well with life, someone with their stuff together, someone who is good at living life well. I want you to see funny, lovely, wise and wonderful. I want you to see coherent, confident and articulate. I want you to see someone who is a great mum, who knows how to settle her upset child. I want you to see me sailing through life dealing well with whatever the day brings. I don’t want you to see me crying on the floor, I don’t want to you see inarticulate mumblings, half formed thoughts spilling out randomly from my mouth. I don’t want you to see me having no clue as to how to make the baby stop crying, I don’t want you to see me. But I’m not sure why.
Is it the shame? Is it the utter vulnerability of not coping? Is it that I perceive judgement in your eyes (whether it’s there or not)? Is it fear of being exposed? Is it pride? Is it all of these things and more?
I know what I want to see from others, I want to see your mess, your pain, your bad days, your tears, I want to share in these with you, I want to stand with you in the frustration of life, I want to know you vulnerable, warts and all.
So I’m left wondering, do I have what it takes to show you what my life is really like? Will I risk your comparison glances, your relief that your life looks better than mine? Can I invite you in when the floor is a mess, when the dirt is showing, when the sparkle has gone? Can I really make the first move? Will you be able to cope with what you find?
Can we handle each others reality?
The only way I know how is to come again to the one who really does know me warts and all, who isn’t fooled by the shiny deception, who sees deep under the surface and still declares that I am loved. I come to the one who tells me there is someone of worth here, not because I’m funny, articulate or able to cope with life but because I’ve been knitted together well, because I am fearfully and wonderfully made, because I am loved. From that solid ground I am free to be open, to be my messy, un-together self.
That’s the theory anyway. The fight is on between my desire to be seen as a perfect together lady and the reality of being a vulnerable mess who longs to share life with other vulnerable messy people.