I am amazed how easily lying comes to some people these days. How can someone publicly demean someone for something they too are participating in secretly? Do people have no moral conscience today? Do they not realize their hypocrisy and dishonesty will affect how other people see them or do they just not care? Is character becoming a thing of the past and presenting yourself as someone you’re not becoming the norm? I have a tremendous amount of respect for the people I know who are honest about who they are. I admire someone who stays true to his word and tells the truth even if it incriminates himself. Finding someone who is genuine is a rare blessing these days and should be considered a true role model. Having the facade of being a stellar human being does not actually make you a stellar human being. Being consistent with who you are in front of and hidden from the camera is a good start.
I’ve written posts before about denial and how it holds me back. I went to a yoga retreat a while ago and we talked about the key to healing any part of your life or succeeding in places you have failed before. It all came down to one simple thing…getting real with yourself. Sometimes it is painful to say the truth out loud so we find a way to twist the truth to help us accept it better. The key is admitting that we all tell ourselves bullshi$ stories and it is those stories that sabotage our chance at real growth.
Recently, my eating has spiraled out of control. I kept telling myself my pants were feeling tighter because I was bloated when the real truth is I had completely fallen off the wagon of sticking to a reasonable amount of calories. Today I stepped on the scale and the bs story was ripped right out from underneath me. I avoided that scale for weeks but deep down I was well aware of what was happening. Avoiding the scale led me away from my goal and all that manipulative self talk did nothing but hurt me in the end. I’ve been down this road before and today I make a new commitment to stay honest with myself.
So today I challenge you to confess one of your bs stories. I look forward to hearing them.
Those aha moments aren’t always positive ones. I was thinking about how uncomfortable it feels the days I pick my son up from school when he is in a bad mood. Teenagers are just moody and I never know which version of him I’m gonna get. I asked myself the difficult question of what am I like to come home to? It is easy to focus on everyone else but sometimes it’s both painful and necessary to analyze myself. The truth was not pretty but there was no denying it. I wait to bombard my husband with complaints about the things that went wrong with my day before he even closes the door behind him. Honestly, I’m surprised he even comes home at all. Here he is, happy to head home to a peaceful place after a hard day’s work and there I am waiting to pounce. I’m not sure I’d like to come home to me either and I am going to try my best to focus on his day and keep quiet about mine. Sometimes we are too big for our own britches and we fail to see the selfishness that is spilling out of ourselves. So today, I challenge you to ask yourself this simple question. Would you want to come home to you? Be honest.
The way I see it, we have a choice. We make the decision to look for the good in someone or we examine someone with a microscope to broadcast the bad.
I wrote a post a few weeks ago about a conversation I had with my son. I was frustrated with him and I spent the whole ride home from school telling him all the ways he disappoints me. I was stopped mid-sentence when he interjected and said words that really made me think. “Do I do anything right mom?” My heart sank and I allowed myself to feel the very pain I was choosing to inflict on him. Who did I think I was that day? How would I feel if everyone wanted to have a conversation about everything I did that was disappointing. Didn’t I already know my flaws and feel bad enough without someone else pointing them out?
The lesson is simple. Just turn on the news and watch this sad process in action. Basically, we get what we look for. We can look for and report the bad, the negative, the doom and gloom or we can seek out and celebrate the good. The problem isn’t always the person or the situation we are pointing our eager finger at. Often times, it is our own perception that is the biggest problem at all. Time to get real. We can’t heal what we won’t acknowledge.
There are irrefutable facts lost somewhere between the reality of a situation and the story we tell ourselves. No matter how hard I try, my head cannot leave a situation well enough alone. It listens, analyzes, judges, twists and ultimately rewrites the narrative to fit the smallness that stows away inside my head. Overthinking is like a weed that covers the truth and leaves even the most innocent event looking ugly and unkept. It’s so important to reach down and pluck the ugly out from the roots. To be real and honest and admit when those dangerous weeds are hiding the beauty that lies beneath and the only thing allowing them to take over is a simple yet conscious choice. I found myself standing there this week in the middle of my mental garden stomping on the flowers and nourishing the weeds. It took a few days a long with the courage to take a step back and force myself to lift my head and take an honest look to realize what I was creating was far from truth. There are irrefutable facts and the stories we tell ourselves and the truth lies someplace inbetween.
How many times do you tear down the lies and just get real with yourself? Sometimes it’s easier to avoid the truth because denying it feels better than facing the work that lies ahead necessary to set yourself straight again. What I don’t know can’t hurt me. Sound familiar?
For quite a while now, I have been extremely uncomfortable in my clothes. My ego generated lie after lie as I avoided the scale. The truth would have been revealed in one three digit number. I pushed that scale with my foot underneath my vanity purposely avoiding a truth I was unwilling to see.
Today I got real. I felt sick as I bent down and slid that scale out. I begged and bargained with God but He must have been busy. Now I know for sure what I had known all along. It’s not loose skin or aging. I have gained weight. You can’t change what you don’t acknowledge but today I gave myself the gift of hope. I’ve done this before and I know what works. Now that I am honest with myself, the real work can now begin.
What have you been avoiding? What truth have you been hiding from?
Teenagers. Need I say more. The first day I held my my babies in my arms I knew my life would never be the same. Here were these perfect packages of love all bundled up and counting on me to keep them safe. I didn’t know much about parenting then. I knew I had to muddle my way through until I finally figured out a plan. Certainly I would figure this mom thing out because like it or not, these tiny babies didn’t come with instructions. There was no transitional period. A baby was born and I became mom.There were no guidelines or anyone to tell me a sure fire plan to raise a happy, healthy, super kid. Sure there were people who offered suggestions that followed a hint of the theme I was doing something wrong. These days I feel everything I do is wrong. Sometimes I say things that later near drown me with pain and regret. Some days I’m so distracted that I forget to listen. Some days my cape falls off and I’m reminded I am only human. I right every wrong or fix everything that is broken. I can’t be who everyone needs me to be or pretend I’m someone who I’m just not. Sometimes my mom is broken. It can’t be fixed with a bandaid or a trip to the spa. Sometimes I need a good cry or a long walk or some space to breath without feeling the need to apologize for my own needs. Sometimes I need to remind myself that it’s okay not to be perfect and that each day is a new day to wake up and try again. So how do I parent when my mom is broken? The best way I can and somehow I have to make peace with myself that somehow that will be enough.