I wish that I could be everything to everybody all the time. It’s really my life’s mission, to be that person who always gets everything right and does all of the things that people need from me. I am quiet a lot of the time, and as a result of that I absorb a lot of what people around me say. I take special focus in the things they say to me. Every detail is important.
I have trouble a lot of the time describing my feelings because I lack the perfect word. I have trouble talking because I get too flustered over my need to know just what to say. I fail all too often. I can’t describe how badly it hurts. Not out loud. Not on my own. I can’t ask for help. Not out loud. Definitely not without prodding. I have always had trouble wrapping my brain around the idea that people care. I put all of my energy into my marriage, and he never cared. I project that on to everyone around me, that idea that I am nothing, that idea that they don’t care. How could they? Why would they? I am not everything to everybody all the time. As a matter of fact, as hard as I try, I rarely am. I get my self esteem from my achievements. When I can’t achieve, when I fail, I lose all of my confidence. I have so little to begin with. I let life snatch away what I do have.
I keep my most important words close to my heart. I am very careful who I share details with; I am very careful about forming connections. I am slow to trust, and I am careful to protect myself. When I do make a connection of any sort, I treasure it. The idea that someone sees me, really sees me, is such an incredible feeling that I am loathe to let it go.
My greatest fear in life, regarding revealing the more intimate details, is that people will not believe me. One of my favorite people once told me “I believe you. I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t. You’re so amazing, and strong. And I know that it’s hard and it completely sucks. But you can get through it, one step at a time.” These statements are the type of detail that I hold on to, the type of words that can get me through a difficult day. Because I am amazing, and I am strong. And I am moving forward. That’s another quote. “Continual, forward motion.” I love quotes. I post them on Facebook frequently. I collect them. Because they mean something. Words mean something. They’re powerful, to both the good and the bad.
In my closet resides a shoebox. More accurately, it’s a boots box. It’s huge, and it’s filled up with a ton of these things. When someone tells me something that means a lot, or that I know will be important to me in the future, I write it down and put it in the box. I have quotes written on looseleaf, quotes written on napkins, quotes written on brochures. You name it, I’ve probably written on it. If I get a particularly inspirational letter, message, card, text, et cetera, I print it out and put it in the box. When someone gives me something that means even a little, I hang on to it. There are too many days where I forget. Life is hard, and it’s scary. When it’s especially messy, when I’m feeling lost, I have my words. And I remember that I have people in my life who are there. When I have a bad day, I can pull out the box and flip through the things and remember that people care. That I have awesome friends. That I’m loved.
Somedays I just need to hear the words. To know that sometimes it is okay, and sometimes it isn’t, and that’s it’s perfectly okay to not be okay. On those days, even the smallest words mean everything.