Telling Myself the Truth

We were home from church, sick, on Sunday. All of us. You don't even want to know how many tissues our family has been through in the last week.

On that boogery note, it meant I had a little time to write...in between wiping noses and administering Tylenol.

So here I am. With a full head. (In more ways than one...EWww, that got gross really fast.)

I've been thinking lately about the importance of being honest with ourselves. Well, mostly reflecting on how important honesty-with-myself has been in my life so far, and where it will take me in the future. I have come to the conclusion that we cannot be truly honest with one another until we are telling ourselves the truth.

You're saying "duh," I know...but I'm monologuing about it anyways.

There was this one pivotal moment when I realized this, like really, for the first time. It was when I broke up (the final time) with "That Boyfriend." Y'know, the first one that first stole your heart, for real? The one who you'll always remember? That one.

When I broke up with him that final, heart-breaking time, my up-front reasons for doing so were legitimate and true...but pretty thin in that they didn't tell the whole story...because I didn't really know why myself! My reason? I just don't feel right about this... and if you asked me how I felt when we broke up...I would tell you that I was devastated! And I didn't know why I should break up with him, only that I should. Just a bewildered shrug, or shaking my fist at the universe, depending on the day. I threw my hand over my forehead and concluded that we just weren't meant to be and I don't know why!

And I could have left it there. I could have left that big question mark in my life and just talked about it, mystified, from that point on. And I did for a little while, because I wasn't ready to believe it was my fault, or my choice. I wasn't ready to be honest with myself, because it was easier to believe that it was some outside force that for-some-unknown-reason just made being together impossible.

I can remember that powerful, liberating moment when I was standing in a friend's little kitchen apartment and talking about someone else's heart-breaking split from a boyfriend...when I finally told myself the truth:

It didn't work because I didn't love him enough.

I didn't want me-and-him enough to make it work, at that point in my life. I wasn't ready to love him the way I needed to love him in order for it to last. And so it didn't. It ended. I ended it.

With finally admitting that to myself, I expected a pity-party to follow, more tears about how I (me! and me alone!) let a great guy like that just GO! I'm such an idiot, I thought I should be saying to myself.

But the pity didn't come. I just felt...unburdened. I felt like I could finally breathe, and that I wasn't hiding from my excuses anymore, wasn't working so hard to make myself believe the lies that made me look better to everyone else...I was facing myself for the first time and saying, "There, now. That was tough; the truth kind of stings...but not so bad, either, hey? Now...NOW we can finally, truly, heal."

And heal I did. It gave me a real, honest place to just accept where I was at...and a place to start some real growth. It gave me a place to start asking myself questions. Why wasn't I ready? What would have to be different in order for me to have felt ready? What does that teach me about myself?

We didn't break-up because he was a jerk or because I was crazy or because we were simply star-crossed lovers...but because of a decision I made, with the Lord's counsel, that turned out to be the very best thing for both of us. And that was okay.

Sure there were issues with our relationship, and it always takes two-to-tango, but in reality? If I had wanted it to work badly enough, I would have spoken up, communicated, done everything to fix it. Instead, I stayed quiet and those issues became my excuses to bow out...when the reality was simply that he, this, was not what I wanted right now. He wasn't perfect, but that's kind of irrelevant. Because neither was I (I'm perfect now, though...? Neither am I, I mean. Ha.) and I am only responsible for me and my decisions.

Anyways. This goes way beyond this one turning point in my life. It affects EVERYTHING, really.

Right now, in my current life, telling myself the truth sounds a little like these things:

"I am having a hard time feeling friendly towards them right now because I am feeling a little insecure with myself, and I'm a little intimidated. I need to work on that. This person is someone to be loved; I need to forget myself and find out why they are so awesome."

"My kids are not asking for too much. I am only annoyed because I am trying to focus on how to finish that really witty status so I can look hilarious. Stop it. Put it down for now, I can finish it later. My kids trump my ego for importance right now. In fact, they usually do."

"Am I dressing like this to feel my best? Or am I getting dressed to get attention? Now, let's be honest. Both are fine for now, but if I am trying to get attention...try to understand why, okay? Really think about why I feel like I need that kind of attention right now, and work on that. I can be beautiful, artistic, vibrant, and attractive regardless of what I am wearing."

"I am only bugged by that person's success because I am feeling a little jealous. They have experienced something really incredible and exciting. It does not subtract from the joys in my life! So enjoy this joyful moment with them, genuinely, and add your cheers to theirs!"

"I know the reason I am not joining in this conversation is because I'm not ready to be vulnerable, out loud, about my own struggles with this issue yet. That's okay. Soon, someday, I'll be able to talk about it. But until then, I can be a soft place to land for these friends of mine; I refuse to scowl because I think they should be holding in their heartache, too. I may not be ready, but they are putting their hearts out there and that is really brave. This is not oversharing. This loving each other. And it's okay to be scared about that, too. I'm on it, one step at a time."

"His behaviour is only annoying me because it's not what I want him to do. But since when was my way the best way? I need to remember that he is different than me, and that is beautiful. Difficult and beautiful. I am not in charge, I am not the boss-of-him. I am only the boss of me."

"I shouldn't really type that sentence like that, it makes me sound arrogant and bossy. But then again...sometimes I am arrogant and bossy. I just struggle with that sometimes. And that's okay for now. But let's work on that. Why do I feel the need to sound arrogant about that? Probably because I'm a little insecure with that idea and am overcompensating. Yeah...probably."

And I find, every time I am really, truly honest with myself...it is always the first step up. It is always the gate that opens to healing and growth.  I stunt myself when I am being too ______________(prideful? scared? angry? apathetic? Insert damning state of being here) to be honest with me and admit the way I am really feeling and why.

I hope I get better at it. It gives me more compassion and patience for others. It reminds me that we hardly ever know what's really going on under the surface, under other people's surfaces. And it brings me closer to my God, because He's there, in my head and heart, helping me see myself more clearly so that I can get out of my own way on the road back to Him.


The end. I am now hungry. And that is also the truth.