Piece by Piece
The simple truths should be said more. Of course, they’re not really simple when you examine them.
I love seeing your name on my phone.
You have the best sense of humor.
I like spending time with you.
These things are honest, but vulnerable. And being vulnerable, even in little ways, can be scary. This week, I found myself butting up against the edge of my own armor—and that was how I realized I’d put it on. I hadn’t noticed, not really, that various bits of past heartache had come out to play.
And it’s interesting to notice that the impetus came from some other avenue entirely. And yet. And still. The armor was there, protective and safe, but a bit too heavy.
I am not always good at needing people, because needing people is vulnerable. The irony is that I love being needed and let in. And I try very hard not to be a hypocrite. So I am working on, piece by piece, taking that armor off.
It isn’t necessary. It isn’t useful. And it is a bit silly, all things considered.
But it reminded me that we really need to be gentle with those around us and ourselves. To extend a bit of extra kindness out into the universe and inward. And, when all else fails, tell people that you care. And why you care. And what you love about them. (Note: this is not some secret scheme for y’all to hurl compliments at me. I’m genuinely offering advice.)
Be sincere and honest and damn the rest. Because the things that save us from heartbreak and loneliness and the difficult bits is never, ever armor. It’s a friend putting a card in the mail. It’s a surprise present in a bad moment. It’s sharing and caring and being utterly silly whenever possible, because life is serious enough.
It’s connection and laughter and daring to ask every question wandering in your heart. To see what happens. To see what’s next. To grab joy with both hands—and each other. When the night feels too dark, and the bad things feel endless even if they are small, it’s really you and me and us and we that get us through.
Tell people how you feel. Tell them without worrying how it might go over. Because that’s really out of your control. But the telling? That telling is yours. So, be big and brave and perhaps unwise, and say the things.
I have always said what’s in my heart. Even if it takes me a while to get there. Even when my voice shook. Even when it all went to hell. Even when it only worked out for a minute. It’s always the hardest and the easiest thing. But it’s the most honest thing, too. And there’s no one else who’s going to do it for you or keep you from it.
Guess what? You make the rules. And you also get to break them. Sometimes, just for the plot. But most often, for the joy of it.
Until next week, kittens!
XOXO