I’m sure that you all have given it thought or have seen the reality of how social media tends to shape what we want people to know about us. That even goes for our feelings. Our true emotions and actions that happen every day. I remember using Facebook as my outlet to cry for help, then looking at it the next day or week with shame. Why does this happen? Why do we feel like we always need to be our best, “perfect” selves?
I’ve started reading a book called Captivating, and it reads into a woman’s soul. It talks about how men and women are inherently different. Not only in our genetic makeup, but how we process every day life – down to what we desire. None of it is saying that “a woman’s place is in the kitchen,” dear Lord, no. But what it is saying is that as women, we possess something quite powerful: the essence of God’s beauty. While that is a truly amazing aspect, we often find ourselves hurt, abandoned, misunderstood. Our beauty leaves us with nasty scars and memories that hold us with promises to ourselves to never be vulnerable. Some of us find someone to be vulnerable with, but deep down, there’s still more. Why?
After reading through this past chapter I finished, I came to an amazing realization: I must be vulnerable. As Stasi Eldredge wrote perfectly:
Part of the reason women are so tired is because we are spending so much energy trying to “keep it together.” So much energy devoted to suppressing the pain and keeping a good appearance… Part of this is driven by fear that the pain will overwhelm us. That we will be consumed by our sorrow. It’s an understandable fear – but it is no more true than the fear we had of the dark as children.
We keep so much locked in that we will never begin to heal. We will never truly understand the meaning of freedom and grace. “Grief, dear sisters, is good. Grief helps to heal our hearts.” – another striking quote from this chapter.
Let me make myself clear: what happened to you (or me) hurt. The wound is there and it mattered. You matter. The pain and agony in our lives was not supposed to happen. Take a moment and cry. Just cry it all out.
The chapter continues into forgiving those who wronged you (umm, not something I want to do – but I’m working to choose to do), asking God to heal you, asking God to father you (maybe not the way you may know your earthly father to, but the way fathers are supposed to love), and asking him to reveal your beauty to you. It’s honestly one of those chapters I had to reread. I want to know more, but I know that the first step is showing that I am broken down. I am wounded.
If you want to know me, you must know that I am broken down. I have horrible wounds – some that may sound trite to others, but they have wounded me. I do not have it all together, and that is ok. I long for healing and to understand what it means to love myself, and that will come. It’s time to let my wounds breathe.