I had something different planned for my post today. But my heart wasn’t in it.
Instead, my heart is fixed on other things…
Broken things, wounded things, forgotten things.
Moments and words and feelings that won’t surrender to the usual strength I have in reserve for all things negative in my life. For some reason I can’t seem to summon it. It isn’t usually merely a facade, but today it is. Today when I pass you in the grocery store, say hello to you at the park, or smile at you in your front yard when I drive by–you will see a sort of strength, but only the shell of it.
I don’t know exactly why, but I have long been labeled a “strong” one. One who doesn’t flinch at adversity or get offended easily. One who can handle life with all the kids and projects and assignments. One who doesn’t question or wonder or doubt. One who deals with personal problems by reaching out to help others instead of dwelling on my own difficulties or disappointments.
At least that’s what I hear.
But today, that strength is elusive.
Most days it’s reliable. Most days I can pull it together when everything around me is falling apart.
Most days I can brush off the careless remark because I get what it’s like to have a bad day.
Most days I can bake the treats for the family who just moved in because I know how it feels to not be noticed or feel included.
Most days I can get on the spin bike and keep to the caloric intake of an 80 year old woman even though I know it won’t help me lose a single pound because literally nothing has worked for over eight months. (Darn thyroid.)
Most days I can do it. I can get up early, I can fold the clothes, I can change the diapers, I can wipe up the spills, I can listen to you talk about the hard things in your life.
It is what I do–because I have always been a “strong” one.
My older sister has told me that growing up I rarely let things bother me. She said when my siblings were mean to me it was like water off a ducks back.
In my High School year book are messages from people telling me how “amazing” and how spiritually strong I was and how it helped them personally deal with life better with me as an “example.”
As an adult people have noticed that I have overcome some pretty serious trials. And they commend me that through them all I have stayed true to myself and to God. I have never doubted His existence or His message.
A well meaning ecclesiastical leader recently told my husband and me that our family was one that they didn’t have to ever worry about because they knew they could always count on us.
But…
What my sister didn’t know was that I played by myself 99% of the time at home and that sometimes I just wanted someone to notice me and say something nice.
What my High School classmates didn’t know was that I spent most of my free time reading and practicing violin and that sometimes all I really wanted was to be invited to the parties and the hangouts without having to always be the one to reach out first.
What acquaintances and friends in my life now don’t know is that sometimes I need to talk to someone other than God–someone who will listen and put their arms around me. And sometimes I need God to show me that He knows that I exist and that I matter.
What our church leader didn’t realize is that our family has our own struggles and that sometimes we would love to be remembered and have someone check in on us every now and then.
Because being the “strong one” can be very lonely sometimes. The ironic thing is, I know I’m not alone in this.
There are so many others like me!
And sometimes we just want a text to say hello. We just want someone to look into our eyes and ask us how we are doing–and pause to hear our answer because they actually want to know.
Sometimes we want to be invited to lunch or a double date. Sometimes we’re the ones that need a visit or a phone call or an anonymous treat on the door step.
Sometimes we just want to be remembered.
My intent with this post is NOT to request validation or sympathy or to stir up feelings of guilt. I just want to shed some light on what it is like to feel the loneliness of strength. And to allow me to say to the many of you within whom I know these feelings have been felt …I understand. And I see you.
And later today, or next week, or whenever I am feeling the pangs of this unique loneliness again, I will do what I usually do when I’m feeling down–what all “strong” people do. I will focus my attentions on someone else. I will serve. I will think of what someone else needs.
But THIS time, I’m going to reach out to one of the strong ones.
I hope you’ll join me
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