Front and Center

I’ve been viewing and reading different postings about #letsgethonest, and I kept thinking “you should do this.” And then I’d get sidetracked or talk myself out of it. But I came upon another post today, and it prompted me to share some of my thoughts. It’s more comfortable behind the screen, I suppose, to share our layers. That is one of my favorite theories by the way – Social Penetration Theory. I studied it in Grad School. I was intrigued by it then and continue to be to this day. So, here I am, peeling back a layer for you and for me too. Facing those inner workings of our being is cathartic. At least it is for me anyways.

I suspect putting it in writing makes it more real. My imperfections right there in whichever font type and size I choose. There’s a silver lining in everything. Why should our flaws be any different? We all have them, and in their way our imperfections can be beautiful and ugly too, I suppose. Honestly, without mine, I am lost. They are a part of me just as much as I am a part of them.

So, about those vulnerabilities, those fears, those things I keep buried deep within my layers. Where do I start that you may not already know? Since when I write, I write from a personal space, I’ve shared some of those delicate layers with you before. I’ll give it another go around. If you choose to stick around for the duration, thank you. If not, that’s okay. I won’t hold it against you. Chances are I won’t even know you didn’t stay.

I am a work in progress, and some days I feel like I’ve just begun and other days I feel like I’ve taken two steps back. And that bothers me because shouldn’t I have figured it out by now? Shouldn’t I have seen that significant change, that big shift in my orbit by now? Or did it and I missed it? It scares me at times too. Don’t get me wrong. I am okay with being a work in progress. Life is mine to mold, and I enjoy the learning and growing process. It makes me feel alive and whole, but at the same time, it makes me question things that aren’t always easy to face.

How many what-if scenarios can you run? How did I get here? Where do I go next? What if that moment never arrives? What if it does? What if it’s bad news? But what if it’s good news? Why me? But why not me? Does anyone else feel this way? Even a little bit? Damn it. Sometimes I feel like a hamster on a wheel in my head, and it’s tiring.

And then I must silence it. File it away and move on. It’s a struggle some days, and I battle with this layer of my being. I must tell myself that it’s okay and that all the minutia is a part of the process – the good, the bad, and the ugly. I remind myself that the toxicity and dysfunction along the way have taught me things. That each step leads to another and that eventually, it will all work out.

“Have faith,” I tell myself. “Have hope.” They are strong words but important ones. Words that I broke up with a few years ago because I stopped believing both in them and in me. Do you know what that feels like – to lose faith and hope? Two things that had seen me through so much and then it felt like they were gone. Vamoose. They are words, no they are beliefs, that I welcomed back when I was finally able to crawl out of the ugliness. They are words that now mean more than they ever did and continue to carry me through each challenge. Granted, we may argue from time to time, but I won’t let them slip away again.

What you are reading is the first post I’ve written in a few months because – for lack of a better term – I’ve been in a funk. I hate admitting it, but it’s true. The worst part is that I failed to acknowledge it this time, which is unlike me because I am usually good at recognizing it. But that’s how the past few months have been: Crazy. Chaotic. Disruptive. Stressful. But not the least of which is reflective.

It’s not that the words haven’t been there. It’s just that my heart skipped some beats. For no one reason. It just happens to me sometimes. And some days I like to say that “I’m not fit for human interaction” when really, it’s just that I need some time to get outside of my head. To take some time to let go of the heaviness so that I can make room for something lighter. I worry that as I write this it won’t make sense and you might think “whoa, what is up with this one?” And then, I take a breath, come down from the ledge and continue. Not because I should but because I want to. And because regardless of what I write it won’t appeal to everyone and I’m okay with that.

So, I cast aside my worst critic – me – and I keep going. I keep going because it is what I know how to do and I am damn good at it. And then I thank my mom up above for her trifecta of wisdom that she always told me and I carry on. My resilience has yet to let me down. It’s always with me. Unlike my sense of direction.

Now, talk about a challenge.

That’s right. On a lighter note, I am directionally challenged. I rely on my GPS. Unless it’s a place and space I frequent often and can put myself on autopilot; I need directions. Landmarks. Help. I also tend to get a bit anxious when I drive in unknown territories or big cities, but I can do it. I prefer not to drive in big cities and try to avoid it. But you have to do what you have to do. I’m stubborn that way. I may not like it, and I may curse like a sailor to myself, but I forge ahead. See. It’s that resilience thing again.

In the face of honesty, there’s much we can learn about ourselves when we delve into our multi-faceted layers. Thanks for letting me delve into mine for a bit. I’m sure there’s more. No, I know there’s more. But it isn’t for today. Maybe someday. Or perhaps not. I guess time will tell.