Being Afraid.

—————————————————–

Late at night, I sit alone on my balcony and the cold seeps into my bones. I am alone. 

These words ring true and deep within me. I am alone. 

I push it back with all of the energy that I have left, because that’s what I believe that I am supposed to do, and I gather my knees close to my chest and sip my coffee. 

An aching thought comes to me, that maybe I should feel these feelings, maybe I should let it in. And so I do. Grief presses into my chest and I weep on my balcony for hours, alone.

I weep for mistakes made and for the things I used to believe. I weep for naivety. I weep because of the message a friend sent me last month that asked how I seemed to always have it all together and I weep because the image I have given her is false. I weep because I fight and struggle to be authentic but for months I have not had the words. I have not written about the deep things, the hard things, the true things, because I have been afraid of the words. Of what they would do to me if I finally let them loose. Of what people would think. Of offending someone or of hurting someone or of letting someone down. 

And I know that I am alone because I have built a dam and I have kept the words pinned up. I stand against it with my back braced, strong, and with my feet digging into the earth to stop the flood that needs to come. 

—————————————————–

“Have you told God, I mean really told him? If you are so angry, why don’t you tell Him?” I feel him staring at me and avert my eyes.

“No, I haven’t.” I whisper back to him in the dark. “I am afraid.” 

—————————————————–

I used to think I wasn’t afraid of anything. I used to think I was fearless.

But lately, being unsure has left me terrified. Realizing that everything wasn’t what I thought it was going to be has left me shaken. And I don’t have the answers. I don’t have one single answer. But I know that I can’t do it alone, and I know that these words burn inside my heart and I need to let them overflow and pour out of me before it kills me. And so I will. Because for me, this is the first step toward facing fear and being brave. 

Somewhere along the way, I started to believe that I couldn’t share the hard things about my life. I couldn’t let the words seep out of my cracked open heart because I was “supposed to” bear this alone. Because that’s what it meant to be brave. But now I am learning that being brave really means being vulnerable and transparent and honest in a world that is photo shopped and staged and makes it impossible for anyone to measure up. Being brave is letting the words come even if it’s hard and telling the truth even when it hurts because we crave this… truth, authenticity. We need this. I need this.

Because the truth is that we aren’t alone. We have each other. We need each other. Our hearts long to be understood and we long to be loved. I think that’s why I’ve felt so alone. Because we were never designed to carry the weight of these burdens by ourselves. We were not designed to measure up to some crazy impossible standard. And the world needs real. The world needs authentic. The world needs truth. 

Because the world is really just made up of people who are longing for something, people who don’t want to feel so alone. People who are looking for truth. 

———————————————————-

“I’m afraid of this.” I finally say the words to God, my voice shaking. “I can barely admit it to you… I can barely put words to the way this feels.” 

I don’t hear a voice or a scripture…. I just feel it deep and sure in my spirit. It is time to let the dam break.