It’s ok, to not be fine…

As if no time has passed there you stand old friend. There may be more grey hairs and wrinkles between us, but at last that same smile is same as it ever was. The same goofball things still dissolve us into fits of giggles, bringing me back to the girl I was. We catch up about kids and work. We retell stories. We are mystified by how much time has passed since we saw each other, and vow not to go so long again. We lie! We recite the glossy versions of our lives, like we are reading from a script. We dodge the truths that may bring down the room, and avoid the eyes that seek it still. I was thinking of this recently, as a lot of people I haven’t heard from in awhile had reached out to me. I apologize to anyone who was hoping for the I’m fine from me, but got a story instead. Wrong week to ask with side effects of medications combined with PMS wrecking havoc, but I digress. Why are we hiding?

I had become an expert at this over the years. As friends and family decorated nurseries, I grieved over negative pregnancy tests. Baby showers became more torturous with every failed IVF attempt. Mother’s day used to bring with it a special kind of reminder that I had failed. I had failed as a woman and a wife. This was a special kind of hell, that I invited few people into. The cracks in my marriage magnified by grief and despair, left unattended started to divide us. Sure we chugged along the road that thankfully led us to adoption, but we were never quite the same. I walked this road alone to no one’s fault but my own. I occasionally invited somebody in, but it was brief and always leaving with the promise that I was fine. I was not fine!

I’m fine!! My mom would repeat it like a mantra no matter what was going on. Ingrained in me at a early age, I wore it like a cloak. I hid my truths, and dodged those that sought it. The problem is when you hide parts of yourself, is that you can’t be true to anyone including yourself. So I teach my children to embrace their truths, even the ones that seem ugly and messy. Encourage them to share whatever parts of their story they want, and never be ashamed of where it started. Most important, I teach them that it is ok to not be fine. Sometimes we are not fine, until we are again…and that’s OK.