It doesn’t really matter how many times we tell ourselves we’re better. If we have to keep saying it, there are still unidentified shattered pieces.
When does it become okay to live with them?
When can you leave them there, knowing that no definition of your life was written because they exist?
Everyone deals with them. The night you told your boyfriend that you wanted a break, thinking it would help both of you, but he, taking matters into his own hands, took a break from reality with a loaded shotgun. The time you got that phone call that your sister was in an accident that would change her life forever. A 20 year old, your best friend, telling you she was pregnant, and moving home from her life at school, only to find out that her boyfriend-turned-fiance was unfaithful. Having a baby scared him, he said. But, apparently, not as much as being a single father.
Nobody is to blame in these situations. We all play our own part. We all grow and learn and heal and love. We all cry and scream and fight for whatever seems worth it at the time. Then, we look back and say, “At the time, I thought it was all that mattered.”
My question: What is worth it all the time?
Is there something that keeps us moving forward when we want to slink off into the darkness of the corner? What held my head up when I was being told that I was worthless? What helped me breathe when I knew that if I was any louder, he’d find me?
My answer: Love.
For your pet. For a friend. Shared with a sibling. A parent. A husband and wife. A student. A child. All of it. Maybe only one at a time. An enemy. A bully. An ex-boyfriend. The twerpy neighborhood kid. All of them.
Because you can’t love others if you can’t see why the love you’re willing to share is worth it to them or why you should feel proud to be yourself.
And if you’re standing on the sidelines, trying to avoid all of those shattered pieces you left behind, the rest of the journey is starting without you. And that road doesn’t have debris to fight…yet.