Once upon a time I had that perfectly put together neighbor. Beautifully curled hair, a body to die for, kids that came straight out of an ad, a husband that adored her and a house that was kept as tidy as they come. And she did get up at 5 a.m for the gym., chipper as a bird on crack! Her kids went to bed at 7, and up by 6 a.m., homemade breakfast everyday and stories of how her husband loved to snuggle every night. (gag).....for the love I just wanted her to stop talking. It wasn't till a year later that I learned Sam had been extremely depressed all year. Her marriage was struggling and that perfect persona was just a mirage. Her attempts to keep it all together had rubbed off into making sure her children also appeared perfect. It left her no time to rest because if she did she would have let go of the image she had created. So she stayed busy. But she had grown tired. Life was catching up to her and she needed to be real even if just for an hour. I was extremely humbled that she confided in me, I felt guilty for judging her. It taught me a valuable lesson, grass isn't always greener....
The Suburban Fairytale we tell ourselves...."I am only as perfect as what I let them see." Somewhere along the way we as woman felt the need to do it all on our own as to not be judged for our short comings. "If my house is unkept, then I am less of homemaker. If my kids aren't sterling scholars with their life all figured out I must not have tried hard enough. If I don't smile and say everything is fine, they will know something is wrong." But no one knows of the two jobs she is holding down just to make ends meet or the migraine she went to bed with and still managed to get the kids off to school the next morning. Getting ready for the day, was simply all she could do. What about the single mom who is the provider, home maker, and listening sound board. The woman who has been waiting years to have a family of her own and still manages to support every wedding and baby shower with a smile on her face.
In that fairytale kingdom we call home, we may be suffering within those castle walls. Wives and mothers with depression, an illness, a wayward child, grief, abuse, loneliness, or struggling with self esteem. It is a hard thing to feel like you have to go it alone. We tell ourselves that everyone is too busy, or its embarrassing to ask for help. I get it. I hate asking for help. Because I fear what everyone will think or that I will inconvenience someone. Fear that they will see into my life and be disappointed. There is a real fear of losing ones friends if they knew the real you.
Ladies, true friends cannot be lost. Let them see the real you. It is those moments of realness and vulnerability that allows love to grow. If there is anything I could change from this moment on, it would be honesty about my life. The good, the bad and the sometimes awesome. Because in moments of truth and sharing, you gain strength from others. Others who may be feeling the same pressures of life. Ask for help, lean on one another, you may be answering their prayer to help another in need.
And the next time I pass by that perfect mom with the seemingly perfect life, I might just say hello.
After all, she was walking alone.
Love the way you think and write!
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