Who sees your less than perfect parts?
What does it take to be brave enough to take off your beautiful and let someone see you as you are? Cracks and all.
Exposing the shiny scars and smooth epithelium that patchwork together to make up your soul is an act of faith and trust in another human. What if they use that power to tear you apart? Pull at one seam and rend your soul in two.
But, what if they can see the true beauty that lies beneath the worldly veneer? The artwork in the mosaic of shiny and smooth. Scripture instead of scars. What if they can read your soul better than even you can?I’m gonna climb on top your ivory tower I’ll hold your hand and then we’ll jump right out We’ll be falling, falling but that’s OK ‘Cause I’ll be right here I just wanna know
Then it’s time to come down from your hidden perch. Grab that other person and try to never let go. Trust them with your soul and perhaps be rewarded with a glimpse of their true beauty in return. It takes courage, time, and trust. Courage to take off the layer of protective scar tissue that builds up to cushion you from the blows and bruises that life inflicts; scar tissue that sometimes stops you from really living, really loving. Just give yourself a little time to learn how to be in the world again, and how to recognise in other people the positive traits that we should all fill our lives with. Trust yourself. Trust others. Trust in the inherent goodness of other humans, and the universe itself.
I am so fortunate that I am surrounded by people who can deal with the hot mess I am inside some days. Friends and family have stitched back together the patchwork when it comes undone and the stuffing threatens to fall out. On the outside sometimes I am fine, I am together, I am in control; inside I am shattered, raining, and losing control. The truest friends are those you can let inside who don’t run away, who peel back their beautiful and let you see through the looking glass to the topsy-turvy Mad Hatter’s tea party that is going on inside their head too.
The heart that beats next to mine in the night hours belongs to a man who has seen my crazy, read some of the ugly dark parts, and taken my hand to lead me into a new adventure. He sees beneath my micro-managing moments and calms me down when I overreact to harmless comments from other people. He takes on the circus of my life and is the calm in my storm.
Tell me, dear readers, who sees beneath your beautiful?