someone who I deeply value their opinion of me,
called me a liar.
This was not in jest.
It was not in heated frustration.
They meant it.
They didn’t say,
“I feel like you’ve lied about some things.”
“Or, you’re lying.”
They said, “You’re a liar.”
Like it was my only label, my sole identity.
(or that’s how I took it).
I thought about it for hours.
Tried to recount any lie I’ve ever told (intentionally or not),
And contemplated calling anyone who I may not have been completely honest with to confess and apologize.
I didn’t sleep all night really.
Tossed and turned and tried to remember the good things I have inside me.
But at the end of the night, or sunrise really,
I just had to move on.
(well, mostly I just needed to get out of bed and go to work like a big girl).
I’m a liar. Whether I mean to be or not.
And that’s not all I am.
I’m a liar, and rude, and scared, and insecure, a lot of other really ugly things.
Most of them you would never see, never know.
I don’t try to be these things.
Actually quite the opposite.
I try really hard to be good, to make habits of good behavior.
To right my heart and mind constantly.
I try to see myself and my flaws and the ways I could be better,
And actively try to be a good person,
A kind person,
The kind of person that accepts people,
And doesn’t say (or even think) an unkind thought.
To not complain, or gossip or think ill of others.
To be available to people,
And their lives,
And the things that they want to share with me.
To be gracious to others, to be gracious with myself.
Somewhere in all my tossing and turning,
I heard the small voice of my best friend,
Like a little whisper in my head & heart say,
“be tender with yourself…you’re such a good lady.”
And I realized,
We are all just so fragile.
Humanity is so fragile.
I remember being a little girl and playing with my dad in the summertime,
And he teasing me about my ears (once).
Playfully calling me dumbo,
telling me I could ‘fly away’ as he tossed me gently up in the air and into the pool.
I remember it so vividly.
I remember the bathing suit I was wearing,
The bushes around the deck,
The wasps on the water.
22 years later.
I never told him it hurt my feelings.
He probably wouldn’t even remember saying it.
I used to think no boy would ever love me because I had goofy ears.
(we are so fragile).
He since told me how beautiful I was over 1,000 times at least.
But even though I’ve grown into my little pixie ears,
I still consistently style my hair & wear hats in a way that cover my ears.
I think of all the beautiful people that I have in my life.
(I’m so lucky.)
All the years they’ve lived.
All of the intimate things I don’t know about them.
All the things that have made them, and strengthened them,
And the ways that they are fragile.
Let us remember to be tender with each other.
We are all getting better, all the time.