Trying to be REAL

Real by definition:

re·al

1.

true; not merely ostensible, nominal, or apparent: the real reason for an act.

2.

existing or occurring as fact; actual rather than imaginary, ideal, or fictitious: a story taken from real life.

3.

being an actual thing; having objective existence; not imaginary: The events you will see in the film are real and not just made up.

4.

being actually such; not merely so-called: a real victory.

5.

genuine; not counterfeit, artificial, or imitation; authentic: a real antique; a real diamond; real silk.

 

Being real while writing for the world to see is hard for me. Heck, being real with my emotions has always be hard for me in general.

I am a people-pleaser.

I hold back because I don’t want my emotions or what I think to offend anyone.  Or to make someone upset or angry.  It’s something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember.  I don’t want my emotions or what I think to ruin what people think of me.

People seem to think that I’m outgoing, bubbly, confident with who I am.  People seem to think that I have it all together and can balance everything they throw to me. 

My saving grace lately is that I’ve learned to tell people, “No.”

I’m not as outgoing and bubbly and confident as they see me. I don’t have it all together.  And I struggle daily with balancing marriage, motherhood, work, and housework.  I have struggled with depression and lately minor panic attacks.  I sadly admit that my kids have seen me lay in bed and cry for about five to ten minutes then brush myself off, gather myself together, and then go on about the day.  It’s not right for children to see their mom like that.  As mom's we’re supposed to be the rock of the family.  The organizer.  The comforter.  The healer.  So many titles.  We’re not supposed to lose it in front of our children.  But you know what?  I do.  Because I’m trying to be real and show my children that it’s ok to lose it.  It’s how you bounce back.  It’s ok to own your emotions.  It’s ok to be angry.  It’s ok to be sad.  It’s ok to be filled with so much happiness that all you wanna do is giggle.  It’s ok to cry when you’re sad.  I want our children to be able to come to us and talk and share their emotions.

With all that’s been going on, I try to have hope for the kids to see.  But deep down, I fear that we won’t find a house by the time we’re due out of this one.  We start sinking and then good things happen and we tread water.  Then something happens then we start sinking again.  Right now, I feel like I have a weight belt on and it’s pulling me down.  We were so close for everything to be finally settled.  It hurts.  The kids won’t tell you, but I know they’re hurting.  Lately, I have to pry to get my oldest to share with me because he’s afraid it’ll upset me.  And that’s when I notice the cycle beginning.  He’s not wanting to be real because of fear of offending me or make me upset or angry.

Growing up, I honestly don’t remember my parents being real about emotion except death.  I remember my mom crying when her father died.  And honestly, I don’t remember my dad crying.  But I remember crying in my room.  For absolutely no reason.  And not telling anyone.  I don’t want our children to feel alone like that.

I just want to be real.  With myself.  With my husband.  With my children.  With my family. 

In the midst of being real, I make this publicly known.  Relationships with other women scare the crap out of me.  I’ve seen so many friendships blown to pieces.  I run at the first sign of drama.  I hate drama between women.  I long for the day for when I find a good group and we do playdates or lunches or dinners, cookouts, etc.  I admit that I feel lonely because I long for a friendship where I can be real with the other woman and not feel judge or made to feel like I’m less than them or I’m a worse mother than them.  And I feel alone in feeling like this.

 

Anyone else out there fear being real?