I’ve been thinking a lot about the way in which we manage our stuff, our issues. I was talking to a friend and shared that I believe we don’t often let the real tough stuff rise to the surface because that means we need to do something about it. Or maybe, it means that we have to decide not to do something about it, but then that choice is out there. We’ve made a decision- yay or nay.
But, if something stays buried, then we never really have to decide. We will of course suffer the ramifications of keeping things locked down and tucked away, but often the thought is that the pain of the nothingness is less impactful than the pain of action.
With action can come a variety of heartbreaking consequences. We could lose relationships or realize we have to leave our job. We can decide that our personal health has been neglected and we need a lifestyle change. This should all sound familiar because I’ve definitely discussed all of this a LOT. I have. I’ve talked about inertia and fear and denial.
I’ve even talked about this next bit, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
I think we don’t acknowledge the pain that comes with all the shit we struggle with any regularity. We are all still hyper focused on the notion that we need to show the world these perfected, seamless versions of ourselves, so we don’t often delve into the mess. We can’t fathom that other people have the same kind of messes that we do, because it feels so uniquely horrible on every level.
Even if they have shit, it’s likely not so awful, we think, and so it’s best that I keep this shit tucked away, lest everyone think I’m dysfunctional and fucked up and incapable of adulting. I HAVE TO BE ABLE TO ADULT.
Of course, very few humans excel at adulting. It’s rife with all sorts of challenges and difficulties that we are not prepared to tackle, right? Or are we? Some of us believe that others have it all figured out. They have the house and the kids and the golden retriever and the outdoor grill and the turquoise pool and all the unchipped gel manicures. Obviously if they have all of those things, then they are winning at life, and sharing my shit will only make me appear further outside of the circle of perfection than I already feel.
This is, of course, highly irrational thinking, but it’s hard to see when you are in it. Rather, it feels entirely logical. And so, we dip inside of ourselves and we push things as far down as we can get them. Basement style. We want things so removed from our psyche that there’s zero chance of any of that nonsense slipping out inadvertently after a hard day or a big glass of wine.
We are missing out though, because those moments where we share that steaming hot garbage that plagues us and rips us to shreds- those are the best connective moments we can have as humans. There’s nothing more satisfying than looking at someone you love and telling them that you struggle too and then, offering a hug or a helping hand or just a quiet moment or the gift of no judgment.
There is nothing more gratifying that telling another human that it’s actually not their job or designer slingbacks or their kids perfect attendance awards that do it for you. Rather, it’s just who they are as a human and, you fully understand the fallibility of humans and you actually love them more for their full humanness, their imperfectly perfect humanity.
I’m frustrated that with all the memes and books and multi-million-dollar grossing influencers out in the world (and motivational speakers), we still cannot figure out how to tell each other it’s fine and we get it. I cannot understand why we can’t cut each other slack. I truly don’t get how we still revere that kind of perfect that’s not real and unattainable. I absolutely do not process how we don’t crave a different kind of authenticity.
And I can hear the folks in my head who will tell you that it’s cleaner and neater and better to keep things as they are- who will tell you that we don’t need to unearth everyone’s insides. Let’s be dignified they would plead. What’s wrong with keeping things quiet and private? Well, nothing, except for everything.
I think people like this bullshit paradigm though because it ultimately uploads the societal circles that we are so fond of. We can’t have mom crews or work besties if we really dive into the nitty gritty. Or can we? What if those relationships were actually made stronger with a dose of real life? Isn’t that a possibility? Sure, maybe you won’t have as many people milling around, but those that stick around really know you in a way that’s pretty special, and isn’t it better to have a few goodies over many fakers?
Maybe not for you. Maybe you live comfortably in a world where you have one persona with the outside world and one with those who are close-ish to you and one that you see when you look at yourself dead in the mirror.
I don’t trust people an awful lot, so I can’t tell you that I’m apt to pour my heart out to someone I’m not super close to. But you know what? I’m getting closer everyday to having some modicum of consistency when it comes to my openness and sharing.
Sure, some of this came to me after the fucked up and terrible relationship that jump started this blog. But mostly, it’s coming to me with age. I’m tired of finding different ways to navigate each person or group of people based on my comfort level. And yes, maybe that means finding the lowest common denominator and going out with that. But also, it means being honest about situations in a way that maybe I’ve never done before.
Silly little shit and really big things too. Like, yeah, I sweat a TON in the hot weather. Crazy. I said it to a friend today and she literally sighed with relief and told me she has the same issue. It’s just sweat, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it. Can you imagine? I can. I get it. Or big stuff, like I don’t want to date but also, being alone can be weird sometimes.
I’m not suggesting you should empty out your insides. I mean, you should, but only with a professional or yourself or trusted few. But, I am telling you that I think it’s time we got real with each other.
Okay?
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