I know the things you’re feeling.
I’ve sat with you in rooms full of people, watching as you felt invisible.
I’ve sat with you on dorm room floors, as you stared at the girl in the mirror and tried so hard to change who was looking back at you.
I’ve sat with you in conversations, where you were screaming inside but couldn’t quite open your mouth to say anything you really felt, or to say anything really at all.
I’ve watched you get overlooked and walked over.
Chosen and then rejected, used and then pushed aside.
I’ve felt every tear fall, every bump, hit and bruise you’ve taken.
But here’s the thing..
If only you knew.
If only you knew that you had a fire raging inside of you that just wanted, needed, to come out.
If you only knew that who you are at your core is who you need to introduce to people, not the made up, doctored, perfectly tailored version of yourself that you shove out.
You’re lonely because you’re not letting people get to the real you.
And you’re not letting people get to the real you because the one person you did, they didn’t know how to hold all of who you are.
That’s the risk of being a human. You find someone that makes your heart feel different, and you start to hand them bits and pieces of yourself, sometimes small and sometimes really big. And what they do with those bits and pieces is up to them, but sometimes all they do is let them drop to the ground.
That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. I know you’ve thought that forever.
No, it just means they aren’t the person meant to carry them.
They’re too big, too heavy, too awkward, not fitting correctly in their hands.
So they fall, and they break, and in turn you break too.
Then you desperately scoop up all the pieces and shove them back in, deeper and deeper every time you meet someone new.
I know, I’ve watched you do it countless times. Watching as it tears away at who you really are, every time.
Exhaustion and defeat, read all over your face after every interaction where you did nothing but stomp the pieces down deeper and deeper.
What you didn’t realize at the time, is the one person who’s opinion you held so highly, who you wanted to impress the most, who you wanted to see you and love you fully and truly for all that you are.
They did.
They saw who you are at your absolute core.
They called it out. Wrote it down, even, in a note that you still have.
They saw.
But you couldn’t.
Lost in the sea of trying to be what everyone else wanted, all of who you are stuffed so deep inside, that even you couldn’t see it anymore.
I watched as you, for the longest time, couldn’t figure out what was “wrong with you”.
Nothing at all was wrong with you, you just completely lost yourself. You had no identity. Hanging on by a thread, trying to fix yourself and feel better, continuing to produce these fake versions of yourself, slapping on a smile that you pulled out of thin air because you couldn’t muster one up on your own.
Lost.
You were lost.
The fear of being broken again gripped you so tightly.
Like a hand around your neck always ready to clench tighter and tighter at the slightest hint of a connection with someone.
I’ve seen you love and lose so many times.
Hand your massive heart to people and them just disappear from your life in an instant.
Those scars are deep. Those scars are tender.
But you keep on loving.
You keep on caring.
Because that’s the very thing that you are, at your core, your inner most being.
The love that stays pounding around inside your heart, just waiting to be able to come out.
Waiting for that person that can handle it for all that it is.
There’s nothing wrong with you.
Your heart is just bigger than you are.
It took too long to realize it, too long to embrace it.
You are no longer a shell of a person.
You are full of life and love and fire and passion.
And it’s good.
It’s scary to let people in. To hand them those giant pieces of yourself in hopes that they are taken tenderly and softly, held gently.
But it’s also so rewarding.
To be seen and to be known, even just a little bit.
To let all that love inside of you spill out.
I wish you wouldn’t have been so afraid of that for all those years.
It’s scary, but it’s so beautiful.
There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re not lost anymore. You’ve found yourself, your real true self.
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