it is early...4:59 a.m. kind of early. my mind tosses and my mind turns, giving way to thoughts i can only hear clearly in the early morning silence. i've taken in a lot the past few weeks...some of which i welcomed, much of which i would rather forget.
fragile. we are all fragile. we crack and we shatter like glass and over time we begin to see pieces of us, tiny slivers really, missing...shards of trust, self-confidence, worthiness, guilt, inadequacy surrounding the super glued shell we work so hard to maintain. yet, over time, these slivers seem to become harder to ignore and we find ourselves bitter, lonely, empty, sad. we become every hurt we've ever felt, everything we think others think about us. are we incapable of hearing the good things, unable to see ourselves as those we love see us? maybe the really hard part is letting go of what we think others think and see and truly allow ourselves to be who we are...cracks and all.
i have a scar on my right hand, close to my thumb. there isn't a day that i don't notice it and if you watch me, you'll likely see that i rub my finger along it quite often. this scar is one of only a few visible scars i possess...the story behind it nothing exciting: it was a saturday evening, the night before easter. i had just fixed dinner for d and i in our little white house and i went to wash dishes. we had no dishwasher there so i did them all by hand; something i actually found relaxing most of the time. i stuck my hand inside a glass as i had done countless times before, but didn't realize until it was too late that it was broken. a trip to the e.r., ten stitches and a tetnus shot later, i was good as new. what you don't know when you see me run my left thumb over that spot is, i was already pregnant with m at that time but didn't yet know it. and, that is the same place i cut falling out of a carriage ride years later. what you don't see when i touch that crooked white line are the memories that come with it...the excitement i felt days later when i learned i was pregnant, and nervous embarrassment calmed by another's touch.
i have an amazing group of girlfriends. women i've known my entire life, each of which hold a very special place in my heart. we know each other inside and out, sharing pieces of our lives as honestly as we possibly can. over the course of a couple hours, several drinks, lots of laughing and even a few tears...we counsel and we guide, offering support and encouragement...yet, i often walk away knowing we have each left with needs unmet, questions unasked and problems unresolved. there are dark, dusty corners of our life...our hearts, our souls...we don't bare even to each other...things we are ashamed of, afraid of, don't want to bother others with...things we alone carry that we fear make us less somehow. why is this? are we afraid that, like so many others we have loved and trusted, they will leave us too? do we fear them thinking less of us, or pitying us or feeling like we are just too hard to love? probably. but, the reality is, at this point in my life, they are it for me...they know me inside and out, they know my insecurities and my faults and have picked me up, dusted me off and helped me regain my footing more than once. it is such a relief to have friends who know my cracks like their own, and who, when i let them, want to be the glue holding me together.
i don't like letting others see my flaws...or, rather, the less than pretty parts of who i am. i prefer to hide all of that someplace deep inside so no one knows all the junk i carry. yet, i long for one person who i can be totally honest, totally real with. someone who will take all the scars, all the cracks, all the slivers and love every piece of me. the question is, is it possible to see myself as i would hope they would see me? is it possible to love myself in that way...forgiving all the faults, repairing all the cracks, loving all the scars for the stories behind them? or, will i always see myself first as the discarded version...with my eyes open primarily to the pieces of myself that others haven't loved? we are our toughest critic, often pushing away something good and rarely giving ourselves the same grace we give others. the grace that would likely put us back together and make us whole if we let it...
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