We share our perfect moments on the internet, posted on Instagram with filters that make everything look so pretty.
Oh, those curated captures we want to share with the world. I like it.
But I’d like to share the messy, not perfect things too.
The tangled hair. The smeared lipstick. The mistake I didn’t learn from…yet. The millionth time I lost my keys and wallet this week. The love I want but am also afraid of. The f*cked-up purple nail polish I picked at during my break at work because I was nervous and tired. Yes, I’m a therapist. And yes, I’m a human. I get weary too. I get scared and panic and try too hard.
More than anything, I like vulnerability.
Baring it. The boldness of risks that feel just right.
I am most moved by the vulnerable moments with clients that are both gut-wrenching and glittering. There’s so much energy there—in what it means to be seen, to speak hot truths aloud for the first time, to not hide. It’s just so goddamn human. And refreshing.
I think that is what we need more than anything. More than the alluring promises of becoming something brand-new, something sparkly sold to us in an ad that we click online because we believe we aren’t good enough.
What I realize in the quiet moments as I curl inward is this: what I want can’t be bought.
I want real. I want aliveness. All the feelings. All the laughter, disappointment, uncertainty, fear, and joy. The adventures.
It really takes the pressure off, doesn’t it? It releases the pull to be this amazing, amped-up version of ourselves. It brings us back to the worthiness that shines in simply being who we are, in trying things and failing, in loving, in learning, in the sweet weirdness of growing. It reminds us to play and ask questions and explore.
We can’t eradicate our humanness, the soft shells inside that make us care and feel and yearn. The things that make us vulnerable to hurt but also so strong and captivating. Yes. The things that make us powerful and curious and kind.
We can’t turn away from that. Because I believe what we truly want…it’s already here. It’s not some rare treasure to be unearthed in a perfectly executed meditation. It’s this awkward, shaky, simple moment when we are just here and human, feeling the rawness of our broken, open beating heart. And daring to share it.
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