Today at church I enjoyed the worship that washed over me and the sermon that spoke of God's inclusive love. I found myself considering my hang ups. I was trying to figure out how much I let wash off of me in the waters of baptism. I sat there struggling to maintain composure. It seems as if my struggle with my own vulnerability is getting harder and harder as I get older. I want to let go in this moment...things I thought I let go, but somehow they reappear with different life moments. I just can't, or am not willing. I'm afraid of my vulnerability, the ugly cry that will rear its head. So many times I have wanted to be "known," and I see that my desire and my fear are the same thing. How is that possible? I tell myself I need to get home so I can truly let go, so others don't become an audience to my hidden fragility.
I often have these conversations with people about how they think I'm this confident person who doesn't shy away from others. This is one side of my dual nature. I love people, I love real time spent together, and community. But what people usually see of me, in a larger public setting, is my fear, anxiety, and my vulnerability dressed in costume. This is still me, but only a part of me. Yes, I am funny, silly, talkative, and quirky; what you are seeing though is my inability to relax. Now I'll contradict myself and say that this can also be my favorite part of me, for a number of reasons. This can be a catalyst to help me relax, but it can also be a way for me to slip further into my safe place.
There are very few who truly know me...less than a handful. I am very open about lots of things and wear my emotions, and opinion, on my sleeve. So many may feel like they know me, but this is sadly untrue...
I stepped out of church today, having unknowingly left my husband in the building, wanting to just get home so I could maybe weep in the privacy of my closet. Then I realize I cannot leave. I have other things I have to do, so I close those doors. I allow the buzz of my emotions to vibrate only beneath my skin, and I command my limbs to calm themselves. For now my vulnerability must wait. I wait for the comfort of my husband when we are alone, and for my one friend that shares my experience as well as a mutual understanding of how we sometimes have to be each other's kickstand. I would love for there to be more people in this small circle of mine, but I'm afraid of that as well. My costume I wear sometimes pulls me further away from people, so one day I would like to be able to strip myself of my safeguard and allow everyone in. Although, I do not know when that will happen nor when I will truly be willing. Right now though, I just need to allow God to share this with me. Sometimes I let him cup my tightly bound hands. Today I will move a finger, maybe tomorrow another. Eventually I will drop my hands to my sides while God gently holds my vulnerability for me. That will be a lovely day.
I write these sort of things in the attempt of being "known" without having to truly face people. I feel like I have to explain myself as well. I am happy, I am loved, and my life and family is a joy to me. I am blessed beyond measure. Just trying to be as transparent as possible in the best way I know how, in addition to allowing others, who sometimes feel the same, to feel like they are "known" as well.
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