Drowning
Picture this. I’m an introverted clown. I’m balancing on a tight rope while juggling... ya know, those balls that are on fire. I’m in a circus surrounded by a crowd of people who love to make assumptions and judge. One-third of the crowd is cheering me on, 1/3 of them are booing and the last third are laughing - they’re laughing at me. And I’m trying to laugh with them but tears are streaming down my cheeks... and they aren’t the happy kind. My clown make-up is running and proving to the world that I’m a fraud. I’m clumsy, off balance and I wasn’t exactly honest on my resume when I said I knew how to juggle.
There is fire raining down all over as I lose my footing and all that I’m trying to balance follows suit.
All these years, I always wanted to be Superwoman.
I wanted so badly to prove them wrong. I wished the world to see me as my cape is flying in the wind. I want those laughing at me to see the battles I have fought and won - and those judging me to see what I am currently overcoming.
But ya know, I’m not. As hard as I’ve tried - I’ve just never been.
I’m hanging up my cape. It gets twisted up and holds me back anyways. It’s too heavy to carry on my shoulders.
Motherhood has always had this drowning effect that makes it hard to draw my next breath. And not always in a bad way but overwhelming nonetheless. Because one moment I’m suffocating in chores and sticky messes and the next the I’m engulfed in this undying pure love I feel for my heart walking outside my body.
This. This is a glimpse into my reality.
In fact, when getting down to it - this is what most of our days look like. The real, raw & broken. I check items off a never ending list, then give every ounce of myself to the light of my life while trying to keep bills, chores, and my head above water. So much so, that not much is left over for myself at the end of it. The defeat is stifling.
What does a glimpse into your heart look like?
Are you juggling too much?
Do your burn marks look like mine?
Can we stop covering our scars with shame?
Can we hang up our capes together? Admit defeat but get up again stronger.
I’ll hold your hand - I just desperately want you to know that you’re not alone. And I’m learning that I’m not either.
