Blotting Out the Backdrop

blot pic

I’ve said this before, but I will always deeply deeply cherish the bonds I have with the women in my life. But lately, I’ve noticed something – we speak so highly of valuing ourselves because we are strong and we are sure of our fire. But then my eyes drift past all our actions and I see this story painted out in grey behind us. I’m not sure if it’s the real story, but it’s there setting the backdrop. A story we don’t want to give words to because we want to blot it out and pretend we’ve never been mumbling the words to ourselves all along.

Independent and kicking life’s ass as far as the world can see, but coming home to take your heels off and wondering, when you get to just chill at home and watch Netflix with someone by your side because you’ve never had to learn how to be alone with yourself. One more perfectly edited picture in that LBD and you’ll believe that you don’t care. But maybe if you stayed still long enough you’d remember how wonderfully weird and funny you are on your own. You’d find yourself enjoying the nights of lounging by yourself in the middle of the bed and sipping your favorite cuppa tea.

Maybe life spat you out this year.

Every last possible thing which could throw you into the mud did. And then life ground it’s six inch stiletto in deep just in case you missed the point. But you’re still here. You dug your nails in and clawed and clung with every last sinewy muscle in your tiny body. You’re tired and feel like you’re barely even crawling with no end point in mind, but darling, you’ve been swimming against the current for so long, when other people would have just given in and floated down, down, down. The end is so close in sight – it’s time you sing a song of change and hope because you are all the better things that are yet to come.

Held down for years you don’t know how to stop, and even the words slow down make your heart beat faster in a frenzy. All you know is the push, the drive, the will to overcome everything in your way. After all, it’s what has gotten you this far… But the hands reaching now? They aren’t looking to tie you down, or throw water over your fire. No, these are the hands of people who hope to kindle and blow breaths of life onto those flames, but their words will be honest and sometimes hard to hear. Will you let them help?

Your words come out like honey and you know just how to lift the dark veils on people’s eyes. How to reach into their dimly lit places and start a tiny spark. But what about your own dark places? The ones you won’t let us see. You’re afraid of the fallout, not being what people think you are, and worse the feeling after you let someone in. The dreaded waiting and hangover of a thousand feelings pushing you down. How do you know we won’t meet you there? The same place you’ve met us so many times and told us we are never too much, but just enough.

Yes, you are just enough to us friend.

So many paintings casting shadows on who we really are, where we are, and the journey forward. Turn around, take in this dark backdrop, and then look a little closer. The paint is flaking and tears litter the canvas, where you started to pull it down because heaven knows you’ve tried. Running a hand over the paint you can see the colors are fading because you’ve stopped dabbing new hues to give it life. Tug the corner and rip it down, or grab a bucket and toss a fresh coat over the whole damn thing, just know that you need to do the thing. The scary thing of doing a new thing to end up somewhere else. Turn the corner, turn around, run a little faster or slow down, make the choice to change so that you want to frame what’s behind you instead of blotting away the words.


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