Today is the day the tornadoes hit around Peoria. As I'm standing outside watching a tornado from the deck, I could feel the same storm brewing in my chest. My life tends to constantly have the makings for the perfect storm just waiting for the final element that will set the whirlwind into motion. I hesitate to be too transparent but I know that the storm in my chest is a result of the secrets that I keep.
I've been walking a long road of hiding reality, but isn't that the example my whole life has set? Put on a smile, lipstick, and some great eye makeup and no one will see the sadness. I can't hide them this time. The scars of insecurity, of self doubt, the ache that never goes away... I wear them like a piece of jewelry these days.
The truth is, it's all my fault. My expectations are too high and my heart is too sensitive. I wish I could change my past, decisions I've made, baggage that I carry, hateful words I've said... I wish I could take it all back. I would do so many things differently. I would strive to be a different person. I'm not the wife or mother that I always thought I would be and it makes me sad each time I think about it.
I'm selfish. I'm sloppy. I'm insecure. I'm needy. I'm demanding. I want a fairytale that doesn't exist...
Saturday, November 23, 2013
This Life of Mine
Once upon a time I was an innocent girl, shy, reserved, prim and proper, covered in pink lace with bows in my hair. I stood on a picnic table singing at the top of my lungs; 'You Can Paint a Rainbow' by Rainbow Bright. I can recite all the lyrics to this day. I knew little of the evils of the world and in my isolated, protected bubble they were kept at arms length. Except for the things that weren't.
My childhood was woven with challenges, my adolescence dripping with emotion, and my adulthood reflects it all. I carry some baggage that I can't ever seem to unpack; baggage that my husband gets to carry more often than I like, but when I sift through pain, the fear, and the memories I'm reminded that all of those things have shaped me and molded me into my current self. At times I am slow to laugh, quick to criticize, and I pop off without thinking. I've established boundaries of protection which I can't always explain and at times I find that I'm less trusting and more guarded than I ever thought I would be. I've been hurt by strangers and friends, and those who say they love me. It's a part of life, I know, yet still I feel my heart harden with each new assault. You may not know my story. You may have called me names or judged me. In truth I have been all of the things you say. My life has gone into survival mode more times than I can count and with that comes consequences. Sometimes I think that my survival mode takes a tiny piece of me and keeps it in that dark, lonely place paving the path for quicker access next time.
With all of this being said, all of the struggles in my life have written my story. The story of my parenting, the story of my compassion, the story of my fear, and the story of my salvation. I know I'm not the only one who carries a scar from their past. As the saying goes, Be kind to each person you meet for you never know what battles they are fighting.
My childhood was woven with challenges, my adolescence dripping with emotion, and my adulthood reflects it all. I carry some baggage that I can't ever seem to unpack; baggage that my husband gets to carry more often than I like, but when I sift through pain, the fear, and the memories I'm reminded that all of those things have shaped me and molded me into my current self. At times I am slow to laugh, quick to criticize, and I pop off without thinking. I've established boundaries of protection which I can't always explain and at times I find that I'm less trusting and more guarded than I ever thought I would be. I've been hurt by strangers and friends, and those who say they love me. It's a part of life, I know, yet still I feel my heart harden with each new assault. You may not know my story. You may have called me names or judged me. In truth I have been all of the things you say. My life has gone into survival mode more times than I can count and with that comes consequences. Sometimes I think that my survival mode takes a tiny piece of me and keeps it in that dark, lonely place paving the path for quicker access next time.
With all of this being said, all of the struggles in my life have written my story. The story of my parenting, the story of my compassion, the story of my fear, and the story of my salvation. I know I'm not the only one who carries a scar from their past. As the saying goes, Be kind to each person you meet for you never know what battles they are fighting.
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