If You Knew This About Me
Every few months we have squad debrief.
It’s a time for us to relax and reflect. Our leaders help to pour into us more, and they share the word. Last night we talked about vulnerability. We talked about what it means to be vulnerable and why it’s important. That you need to bring the dark to light to truly heal from it.
We sat together as a squad, and revealed truths about ourselves. Things we struggle with, insecurities we have, fears we’ve never said out loud. It was intense, but there was so much freedom and power in it. And more often than not I thought “hey, me too.”
One of my favorite quotes says “take the time to get to know someone’s life story. By that time you’ll have more time to love them and less time to judge them.” We so often jump to conclusions, and share much more judgement than love. What if we cultivated a world where we actually saw each other for who we are. A world where we took the time to learn each other’s life stories. Where we actually take the time to care.
If you knew that my Dad is an alcoholic. He always chose beer over family vacations and coming to my soccer games. He and my Mom divorced when I was 13, and my Mom and I were on our own. I’ve never really known what it’s like to have a Dad. That he knows that I am, but not who I am.
Then you would understand why relationships scare the hell out of me. That when a man starts to get close I feel anxious and want out. You would understand that I learned to be independent and strong like my Mom. I don’t want to be attached to a man because that leaves room for too much pain. I’ve struggled to learn that I deserve a man who will choose me because he wants to, not because he feels obligated.
If you knew that I feel everything so deeply. I constantly see beyond the surface. I want to get to the root of who you are and why. If you knew that when I was 16 I went to a Christian camp and they asked me questions about the deepest parts of my heart. That they actually cared and listened. I witnessed the best kind of love I ever have that week in those cabins, and something in my heart came to life.
Then you would understand why talking about the weather is my least favorite thing. You would understand why I talk about my soul so often. And why I have a journal full of quotes that I’ve collected for years because I love the way words make me feel. You would understand why I love awkward moments and challenging people. And why my friends know whenever we’re together, I’ll want to know how they’re REALLY doing. You would understand why I sometimes feel alone and disconnected to people, because it’s rare that people allow themselves to feel so very deeply.
If you knew that my childhood best friend cut me out of her life when we went to college. That she moved and just stopped talking to me with no explanation. I was incredibly close with her family, and felt extremely hurt when she was no longer interested in who I was. Or having me as a friend for that matter. The next summer we worked together and she pretended not to know who I was. She wouldn’t give me a second look or a simple hello. If you knew I felt confused and unworthy and no longer special. That it’s been almost 5 years and we still haven’t spoken.
Then you would understand why I didn’t trust friends for a while. That I didn’t expect people to stick around. I felt a little insecure about who I was and why someone would do that to me. I wondered what I did to deserve that. You’d understand why sometimes I wonder if I’m too much or not enough. You’d know that when I make jokes and say “well what if one day were no longer friends,” that there’s a part of me that really means it. That there’s a part of me that never expected a best friend to make me feel the way I did, and that I’m worried someone else could do the same.
If you knew that it’s taken me a while to truly truly love my body. All my life growing up, I understood that being extremely thin was what made me beautiful. My friends always talked about the size of their thighs and the way their arms looked. Most of my friends were naturally thin and I always wanted to look a little more like them.
Then you’d understand that I still play the comparison game but try so hard not to. I’ve always been self conscious about the size of my thighs and that there’s no gap, absolutely none between them. When I look in the mirror, the first thing I’m subconsciously doing is critiquing myself. You’d understand why comments like “buy the smaller size it’s just motivation to lose weight” drive me absolutely insane. You’d understand why I fiercely say “I love my body how it is,” because I’m trying to convince you, and myself too.
If you knew that these moments actually mean something. That our feelings actually mean something. Our hearts are more important and bigger than we give them credit for.
Then you would understand how important it is for us to to vulnerable. To talk about the hurt we’ve been through and the fears we have and all the why’s. That if you don’t let yourself truly feel you’ll never truly heal. Notice I’ve written the word truly throughout this. Because that’s just it, truth. Allowing yourself to see what has truly happened in your life. And sharing that with other people.
If you knew that someone wanted to know you deeper than anyone ever has before. If you knew someone wanted to have a relationship with you and never ever leave. If you knew there were people who cared enough to ask these questions about your life and help you though it. If you knew there was more freedom and joy than you’ve ever felt before just waiting at your very fingertips.
Then you’d understand why I love Jesus so much. You’d understand why I can write this, and tell you hard things about my life and encourage you to do the same. You’d understand why I am so happy. Why I’ve practiced forgiveness and how light my heart feels. Why I finally feel like I have a Father who really chose me. Why I’m currently traveling the world and leaving my fate to the Lord.
If you knew the freedom that came with bringing the darkness to the light, you’d understand that even though it’s scary and hard and unimaginable, that it will be so worth it.
