If you ever want to know the truth about something, ask a biddy. Kids will tell you the truth whether you want to hear it or not! Several years ago when I decided to try my hair in it's natural state for school one day, a biddy came up to me and asked, "What happened to your head? It looks like you were in a wreck!". If that wasn't enough, another biddy came up and rubbed a little salt in my wound by adding, "Yeah, a tornado wreck!". I'm not even sure what that meant, but I was pretty sure that wasn't a compliment. Kids will tell you when you look great, when you look tired, when they love your shoes, when they like your shirt, and when you have in two different earrings (don't ask, it had been a long morning apparently). Kids will tell the truth. I remember a professor one time telling us that kids lie to get out of trouble, not into trouble. Kids, for the most part, are brutally honest.
Telling the truth isn't always easy. We have these little ways of candy-coating our lies, our fibs, our masks. Somewhere along the way we learn to skirt around the truth for various reasons; to please others, to keep from hurting others, to fool ourselves. The truth. Does anyone even know what that is?
When you are in counseling you often hear and say things like, "Well, what is true for you may not be true for him" or "What is your truth?". There is a TON that could be said for all of this "truth" talk. We all have different truths, like it or not, we do. We are skewed by our beliefs, our experiences, our fears, our determinations. Our experiences shape what we see and how we see it.
Believe it or not, this isn't about your truth or mine or who's is right or wrong or what.
Really.
So if you were looking for an argument. Look on.
You're welcome.
I was reading one of my devotionals recently and it talked about truths. Not in the sense of a lovely little biddy telling you that your clothes didn't particularly match or your own child making fun of the fact that you still had culottes in your closet, and how uncool that made you. But truth... telling the truth. About yourself. Being honest. Brutally. About. Yourself. YIKES. Let's just talk about my bad hair and wardrobe... Ok?
To tell the truth. Ever hear someone start a sentence with that? "Well, to tell the truth..." I've heard it a thousand times at least. That, or "Want to know the truth?" (ummm yeah.... of course I do! No, wait, lie to me....) The truth. Talk about a word that is used and abused.
So, I was challenged to tell the truth. It seemed easy enough until I started thinking about it. Telling the truth... How much truth should I tell? For heaven's sake the public can only handle so much! Will my mom be reading this? My kids? The truth? Really? It's not that easy. Telling the truth makes us incredibly vulnerable. It puts us on a level playing field with, well, everyone. We don't like that. Some of us seem to appreciate being a little higher and pious than others. I know. I've been there. But to tell you the truth, I've blown it time after time. There is no higher and pious for me. And now that I can tell myself the truth, I can sniff it out pretty easily. I don't call it out (but there are surely those who feel it is their place to put others in theirs. Are you being truthful if you make yourself the judge?). To tell the truth.... I want to be real to you, dear reader, because hiding behind a mask of, well, anything, is exhausting and is, in all honesty, a lie.
So.... To tell ya the truth...
My hair really does look like a tornado wreck. I can't help it. It's curly underneath and straight on top and I can't figure it out. I get self-conscious about it. I straighten it, let it go curly; it's getting gray now (sorry, it's getting natural platinum highlights) and I'm like "What the heck?" Because I can't figure when this all happened.
The truth is I can't figure why I don't feel my age. I'm 46. I'm pausing for your shock. I know, right? I used to think 40+ was old. Dear sweet spring babies, it isn't. In fact, when you are in your 40's you are beginning to wonder what you want to do when you grow up. The middle age generation looks at you young whippersnappers and, well you may have the bodies we want, we have the minds and wisdom that we wouldn't trade for anything. I was so smart back in the day. I was such a great mother and teacher when I started out teaching, and before I had kids. To all those I knew back then, I'm sorry. I get it now. Yeah, I know.
Truthfully, I am an enigma to myself. I don't understand why I am where I am in my life. In all the "plans" I had (plan A, plan B, plan C, etc) there wasn't a plan on my story board that looked like my life right now. How did that happen? How did I get here? I have been divorced for nearly 10 years. I am very content with myself and my life with my children. I never imagined I would be here. In all honesty, I would never have grown this much, come this far, and become who I am if I hadn't taken so much time to myself. And honestly, it was scary making myself take time alone. It was scary preferring to be alone on holidays than in a (not so great) relationship sometimes, but I learned that I was worth more than just settling for, and my kids were CERTAINLY worth more than that. Honestly, all the fear of being alone has paid off because I have raised two most amazing young people ever, made phenomenal friendships, and learned who I am in ways that I couldn't have if I had fearfully clung to those relationships that were not healthy. To tell the truth, I have never felt alone.
To tell the truth, I have a terrible diet. I do try, but I prefer chips to fruit. I have to torture myself to make 'healthy' a choice. It is my professional opinion that pita chips (or on a casual night Cheez-Its) and chardonnay make a delightful dinner if the kids aren't here.
To tell the truth I am terrified of what I'll be like when my oldest goes off to school next year. My little family has been fantastic. We don't fight, yell, slam doors... we talk, laugh, get along wonderfully. While a far cry from perfect, we have found what works for us. But to tell you the truth, I am strangely excited and scared about finding our new normal. My daughter is aware that we will have to find our new niche as her big brother has been her best friend and buffer for years. Relationships aren't easy and moms and daughters are different, no matter how you slice it. It's wonderful, but different, and about to be just 'girl' in our house. Break out the popcorn and chick-flicks. I'm sure we'll be fine.
To tell the truth my faith falters and I have tantrums at God like a toddler when he doesn't get a treat while checking out in line at Wal-Mart. I have a tremendous amount of patience. I really do go with the flow, but every now and then I look up at God and I'm like, "Really? What are you thinking? Did you just forget me? Am I not important down here anymore?" And I'll go through a series of reasons God should be listening to me; things I do or don't do that make me worth listening to.... then I realize I'm judging myself, for better or worse, which means I'm judging others, and I'll shut up. I figure things could be worse and I'll wipe my eyes, blow my nose, and take a nap.
Another truth is that I can't stand to hear people smack food. My daughter says that I crunch sometimes, but that doesn't bother me, I can't hear it. I can't stand to hear smacky smack smack eating. Can't. Stand. It.
Passive-aggressive competitive people really grate on my nerves. I am one. How's that for the truth? I am not always that way, but I have caught myself being totally hypocritical. I have to laugh at myself, but at least I can say that I blow it sometimes. I do. Totally.
A harsh truth is, I want a re-do with 50% of my life. I suppose that's what life is all about? Learning and doing better next time. I want to have done better with my kids, my friendships, my job... dear heavens those kids I taught when I first began over twenty years ago! Bless! Bless! Please wipe their memory! Did I really say and do those stupid things? Yes! Heavens. I want to re-do some relationships. Some I would focus on more and to tell you the truth, there are others I would have terminated much earlier. Another truth is that I keep changing the % up there at the beginning of my paragraph :)
To tell the truth I would have started saving money a lot earlier, listening to what my mom told me, exercised a lot more, and cleaned out clutter. I would have asked my grandparents more about their past. Truthfully, I wasn't as interested as I should have been then, but now, I wish I knew more and I miss them.
To tell the truth I would have learned lot earlier in life to keep my mouth shut about things that aren't my business, to speak kindness into people who appear not to need it (they need it most), and to put myself in other people's shoes.
To tell the truth I would have stopped trying to please people who don't really hold a lot of weight in my life, I would have stopped trying to be what everyone else wanted me to be and pursued my passions regardless of what anyone else thought.
To tell ya the truth I would have started writing a long time ago and a lot more consistently. The fear of failure stares me down like I am it's only prey sometimes and I cower. And I hate it. And I struggle with it. But I am determined.
Yesterday our Building Leadership Team went to a system wide meeting and the keynote speaker asked how many people had a blog. I was really shocked that more people did not. Writing is such a powerful outlet. He gave every excuse people give for not trying, for being afraid. I heard myself in those excuses. To tell you the truth this blog entry has been saved in my computer for over 2 weeks. It wasn't until I realized how many excuses I make to NOT publish, that I knew I needed to power through some of this fear and get back on to what I love doing. I want to not be afraid of what people think. I want to not be afraid of negative feedback and just write what I love. I want to touch the lives of others who may feel the same but aren't sure how to express it. I want my words to move lives. That's pretty big for my little blog, but to tell you the truth, that's my passion.
Now, that didn't hurt so bad...
Truthfully,
Becky
November 4, 2015
