pinterest. facebook. instagram. twitter. everything in our world is filtered, tweaked, cropped, and angled to look beautiful. my morning coffee can be taken just the way to represent peace, serenity, calm mornings, and the epitome of fall. what.
when did everything normal begin to look extraordinary? I am all for enjoying the little things. I do agree that little moments in life should be treasured and saved, instead of hurriedly rushed through. but in a world where things are more perfect then they really are, and normal is boring, the flaws that we have, the brokenness that we experience, really have no place. there is no place for my ugly days, for my tears, for my mid life crisis. there is no place for relationship struggles, self-doubt, that extra pudge, burnt meals, and the messy house. all that untidy, imperfect, and disorganized mess that is my life at times must be tucked away, or cropped out of the image that is how the world.
I have always struggled with the duality of my life. from a young age I have gone through a series of traumatic experiences, and because of social, cultural, familial, and even personal standards, have become a pro at showing different sides of me to different groups of people. when I need to have it all together, be the easy going survivor, I can do it. when I need to make light of hard situations and just show the smile, I can do it. when I need to mask the pain and be the perfect wife, daughter, sister, and friend, I can do that too.
the funny thing about marriage is that you have very little time, energy, or space to put on these different faces or identities. my husband has been such a lesson to me; he has taught me so much about God’s love, forgiveness, acceptance, and pushing forward in these past two years then I have ever learned in the past. He sees my good, bad, and ugly. He appreciates when I do have it all together, and I am genuinely happy, feel beautiful, and do have instagram-worthy meals on the table. he also loves me and cherishes me when I just had a major breakout, have no energy for make up, and barely muster heating up soup for dinner. when I try to fake the happy- he doesn’t want it. he would rather have my genuine woe than my fake happiness. because the fake happiness, the fake filters, and the fake smiles- its empty. its meaningless. there is no substance.
as my birthday is approaching, I am trying to really strip off the duality, the multiple personalities, and the different faces for different occasions. I am learning that sometimes to be authentic and genuine, disconnecting and plugging into real interactions is vital. this year I hope to grow in that. grow in comfort with my flaws, and improve realistically, not quick fixes, not cropping out the unpleasant, but accepting and loving the whole. because all of it is my journey. all of that pain, ugliness, and disorder, in combination with the beauty makes my story worthwhile.