I do not have the perfect life. That seems like a ridiculous sentence to write, but here I am, writing it. I am writing it because I get comments sometimes from people who know me pretty well and those who barely know me. And these comments amount to, well: it seems like you have the perfect life. My sister has a good friend whom I'm also friends with and recently she said to my sister that it's hard for her to follow my updates on Facebook because everything seems so peachy and beautiful in my life. And hearing this (or whatever the exact thing was, I can't remember) really took me by surprise because, from the inside, from here, things do not always feel so peachy and beautiful.
I will be the first to admit that I have a good life. I love my husband and my three girls and I am able to spend my days juggling my parenting and my writing and, yes, this often seems like a dream. It's also fun and amazing that I get to live here in New York City where I was raised; never do I take for granted how alive and awe-inspiring this place is. I'm also really lucky to have a family I love, a mother who lives two blocks away, sisters with whom I'm close. So, yes, all is indeed good.
But. And here is the tricky part. There is stuff. There is struggle. And I find myself shying away from writing about it here, from permitting myself to explore it here. And I'm not sure why. First, I think because so much in my life is so good, I feel on some level that I have no right to complain, to excavate the more marginal hard stuff. Second, I think I am downright scared. I know with all my heart that vulnerability is a good and important thing; I have experienced this truth right here on this blog and in my own life, but still. It is hard to put myself out there, out here, and say: okay, guys, this is the stuff that is hard right now, that is weighing me down.
I am not sure really where I'm headed here, but that's always okay. I guess I just wanted to come here today and say that my admitted slew of sunny and sweet photos on Facebook and Instagram and here at ADR is not the whole story. Like all of you, I am always dealing with stuff. This is what it means to be human. This is okay. Good, even.
I'm reading a powerful book right now called Daring Greatly by Brene Brown. My friend M gave it to me last week in Chicago and I'm about half way through. The subtitle of her book says it all: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent and Lead. Anyway, I'm loving the book and it's giving me tons to think about. I find myself flipping pages, nodding, remembering things I already knew. Like how profoundly powerful it can be to be vulnerable.
Anyway, I'm off now to finish this book. And also maybe to sneak in a bit of the new season of The Bachelorette which premieres tonight. Husband's out for a run, the girls are tucked in, and we have a couple of quinoa salads on their way to us. It was a good weekend and tonight will be a good, quiet night, only made better by the fact that I find myself extra-thoughtful about this whole business of vulnerability and the discipline of truth-telling.
Oh, and the pic above? I took it of the girls running on Grammy and Dad-Dad's super green grass this weekend in Wayne, Pennsylvania. Oh how these little girls (and their uber-athletic strides!) make me smile :)
Has anyone ever told you your life seems so perfect? How do you respond to such comments?
Do you believe that vulnerability can be a very powerful thing?
Is it hard for you to be vulnerable in your life or your writing?
Do you think we sometimes send the message that our lives are more perfect than they are by posting pretty pictures and pretty posts?
Would you be interested in seeing more vulnerable posts here on the blog?
Do you have any intention of watching the Bachelorette this season? :)