Can I be real? I'm feeling kinda wompy.
I've been getting to know this guy for the past five weeks or so. He doesn't live in NOLA and I've been fortunate that we've been able to see each other every other weekend since we met. I was sitting home last night with no plans and feeling...lonely. It happens. So I texted him and asked him if I could be real and admitted I wasn't feeling on top of the world. I was missing him and feeling lonely and not my usual chipper self. Not an instagram or facebook worthy post.
Truth be told, I was reluctant to share it with him. One, because I knew he couldn't change the outcome. Two, I wasn't sure how he would respond. When you're just getting to know someone, you want to show the fun side of yourself - the glamorous side. Keep things light! Fun! Silly! Don't dive too deep. Don't get too real. But I shared and I'm glad I did. We talked through it a bit. And I felt less...alone.
This morning I had coffee with a former neighbor of mine. We lived next door to each other for four years and I adore her. She moved last summer and we lost touch and during this past year, life threw some major hurdles at her. She's still standing and for that, I'm unbelievably proud and in awe of her resilience. And seeing her this morning and talking about trudging through the swamp while pretending everything is A OK and the masks we wear was so refreshing. I'm not alone in feeling down and out sometimes.
Down and out.
We convince ourselves we're the only one who goes through it and keep it private and hidden from those around us. I know why. Fear. Shame. Cognizant someone may not receive us with empathy and compassion. Might instead try to slap on a silver lining or tell us to snap out of it or dismiss us altogether. Afraid we won't be heard. Won't be seen. Worried we'll become less attractive, less shiny, less worthy by sharing our wifi signal isn't at full strength.
My conversations both last night and this morning reminded me we all have our ish and it's nothing to be ashamed of. That it's OK to let someone know when you're hurting or sad or just off. That if you let your guard and your walls down and show up authentically to say, "hey, I'm just surviving today. I'm not thriving. I'm hanging on and trying to fight the good fight but man! it's really taking a lot out of me and I could use you" that people will show up for you. In the ways you need them to.
Intentionally build your community. Invest in the people who matter and make sure they know they matter to you. You are not a burden. Hold space. Extend grace. Own that life won't always be an instagram post with 100 likes and your community needs you more for the things they don't publish than for the things they do.
Show up. Just as you are. Full of joy or full of womp. I'm here for you.
Truth be told, I was reluctant to share it with him. One, because I knew he couldn't change the outcome. Two, I wasn't sure how he would respond. When you're just getting to know someone, you want to show the fun side of yourself - the glamorous side. Keep things light! Fun! Silly! Don't dive too deep. Don't get too real. But I shared and I'm glad I did. We talked through it a bit. And I felt less...alone.
This morning I had coffee with a former neighbor of mine. We lived next door to each other for four years and I adore her. She moved last summer and we lost touch and during this past year, life threw some major hurdles at her. She's still standing and for that, I'm unbelievably proud and in awe of her resilience. And seeing her this morning and talking about trudging through the swamp while pretending everything is A OK and the masks we wear was so refreshing. I'm not alone in feeling down and out sometimes.
Down and out.
We convince ourselves we're the only one who goes through it and keep it private and hidden from those around us. I know why. Fear. Shame. Cognizant someone may not receive us with empathy and compassion. Might instead try to slap on a silver lining or tell us to snap out of it or dismiss us altogether. Afraid we won't be heard. Won't be seen. Worried we'll become less attractive, less shiny, less worthy by sharing our wifi signal isn't at full strength.
My conversations both last night and this morning reminded me we all have our ish and it's nothing to be ashamed of. That it's OK to let someone know when you're hurting or sad or just off. That if you let your guard and your walls down and show up authentically to say, "hey, I'm just surviving today. I'm not thriving. I'm hanging on and trying to fight the good fight but man! it's really taking a lot out of me and I could use you" that people will show up for you. In the ways you need them to.
Intentionally build your community. Invest in the people who matter and make sure they know they matter to you. You are not a burden. Hold space. Extend grace. Own that life won't always be an instagram post with 100 likes and your community needs you more for the things they don't publish than for the things they do.
Show up. Just as you are. Full of joy or full of womp. I'm here for you.
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