Writing.....

Behind this Soft Exterior: Daily Battles and Hardcore Love

The pictures come to life

Wake in the dead of night

Open my eyes 

I must be dreaming

Clutch my pillow tight

Brace myself for the fight

I’ve heard that seeing is believing….

~Beth Crowley 

War. Every day I fight a fierce battle that threatens my life; I must either succumb or overcome. 

To the world around me, I am a happy, smiling, occasionally loud and giddy young woman who does her best to love on the people she encounters in whatever way they need. And to some extent the world isn't wrong when they look at me and see those things. I want nothing more than to be a sincere and unconditional lover to everyone I encounter. But they're missing the bigger picture.

Most of my peers don't see the daily grind; the clenched hands, nails digging into my palms; the wide eyes, concentrating either on the ground in front of me or gazing into space, losing touch with the rest of me; the inner dialogue I struggle against 24/7 that constantly tells me I'm not good enough or strong enough or competent enough; the ugly flashbacks or panic attacks that shove their ways through my desperate attempts to keep it all together. 

Ask my closest friends and you'll get an entirely different picture. These few, only 3 or 4, have seen it all; poured water into my mouth when I was weak, held me through flashbacks and panic, cried for me when I couldn't cry myself, cried with me when I could, soothed the nightmares in the middle of the night, slept in my room after awful episodes, and most importantly have chosen to remain steadfastly in my life as my friends, despite having seen the non-glamorous side of me in my hardest, most raw moments of suffering. 

This is me when I allow myself the gift of vulnerability and sacrifice of trust. Fewer things in my life were more difficult than beginning to learn the art of letting people close to my heart after experiencing heartache after heartbreak. Fewer things in my life have been more important than learning how to receive the kind of love I crave to pour into others. See, that's the catch; I am a lover but I can't love on people unless I give my friends the pleasure of infusing into me. 

Lemme tell ya now: That is hella difficult. (Excuse my French, but truly there's not a better way to say that.) My nature is to give and give and give, unconditionally and radically, doing anything and everything I can possible do and being everything I can possibly be. I instinctively push away opportunities to be on the receiving end of that kind of love and reproach myself when I "cave" and let myself be loved on. 

Um, hello?? Girl, you can't pour out unless you're full! You have to constantly refill and refuel for your own good and the good of your loved ones, always. If that means you gotta let yourself be incredibly vulnerable, then do it. If it means you let someone hug or kiss you, do it. If that means you let someone do something for you, do it. If it means you talk about what's on your mind, do it. 

You were made for so much more, darling. But if you're going to be an effective minister of peace and love to others, you have to let yourself be refilled with peace and love so that you have something to give. It's NOT selfish. I include myself in all of this, dearest. Every day I have the choice to push away or open up and every day I fight the self-loathing that comes from questioning my actions and choices to receive. Every day I have to remind myself that I'm worth it. 

Give yourself permission to indulge. Take that hot shower. Read that book. Go on that walk or bike ride or swim. Color that picture. Snap that photo. And yes, eat that occasional junk food (in moderation!). Be good to yourself and allow others to be good to you. If the love you so want to give to others is as real as you say, if you really believe in it, then relish in the love others want to give you. If they love and know you well, they won't offer themselves lightly; they want to love you.

Okay so all that being said, I'm preaching to myself far more than I'm advising anyone else. I have to insistently remind myself that I am surrounded by lovers and fighters who want to see me at my best, who are willing to pick me up when I fall and hold me when it's dark. It's okay, dearest; you are NOT too much for them. You are an unlikely ray of sunshine that danced across their paths and taught them more about what it means to be human and what it means to truly love. 

Be brave, dear soul. You are a fighter. You are beautiful. You are enough. And you are loved far and above what you think or expect or deserve; don't ever forget that, sweet one. 

Soli Deo Gloria 

PS. If you haven't ever heard Beth Crowley's beautiful song Warrior, take 5 minutes of your day and give it a listen. She tells the story of my everyday life in such a fantastic way, I struggle to come up with better wording myself. To be honest, I wish more artists were gifted with this level of taking intangible and turning it to concrete. But that's another tangent for another post....