Hey, you! (Yes, YOU.)
I see you, you know.
I see you in those moments when you think nobody’s looking, those moments when you’re not sucking in your tummy, when you’re yelling at your kids, when you’re serving McDonalds for dinner because you’re too tired to manage anything else. I see your panic when you realise you let down your guard for a while and showed your vulnerabilities. I see the judgement in your eyes as you assess yourself and find yourself lacking. I see your sadness. I see it through your smile, a smile so pretty that I’m left mystified by your inability to see how beautiful you are.
I see you.
I see you when you stay up late at night to hold together the fabric that makes up your family. You carefully sew that fabric with a shiny thread of dedication, resentment, love, fear and hope and you wonder if it’s strong enough to hold. You wonder if the 200% you’re giving your family is enough, and I want to take you in my arms and hug you. I want to take you by your shoulders and shake you, because I can’t believe that you could ever doubt your immense value.
I see you.
I see you when you catch a glimpse of your child doing something spectacular. I watch in fascination as you get that glint in your eye and you ask yourself, with wonder, how such a great kid could be yours. I want to scream because I can’t comprehend how you do not see your own beautiful self in your child’s actions? How is it possible that you don’t see your own magic? Do you not see that everything that incredible child has learnt has come from you? I see you as the teacher, mentor and inspiration that you are. Every day. I see the kisses, the cheerleading, the comforting, the teaching, the role-modelling you give unselfishly with every one of your breaths. Generosity is who you are, yet you refuse to look in the mirror and see the exquisite person I see.
I see you.
I see you, hiding in the bathroom, as tears roll down your cheeks. Your exhaustion hangs on you, cloak-like, as you sit with your head in your hands, sobbing because you simply cant. go. on. I see you as you bravely deep-breathe, splash your face with cold water, dust off and paint on a smile. I see you beating yourself up in this moment because you feel you have no right to these feelings. I see you as you mentally tally your bountiful blessings, count yourself lucky and make the decision to hate yourself more for daring to not be happy. I see you bravely face the world when you emerge, wearing a hopeful smile and a promise to be better. I watch in disbelief because you refuse to see how absolutely remarkable you are.
I see you.
I see you struggling with not being enough. Not engaged enough with your kids. Not up to date enough with the laundry. Not enough of a disciplinarian. Not enough of a hugger. Not enough of a wife. Not enough of a professional. Not enough of a friend. I see you, shoulders hunched, as you weather the beatings of these “not-enoughs” as they rain down on you. I see you try, over and over, to be more and do more and I see you fail because you will never judge yourself to be enough. How could it be? You are so much more than enough.
I see you. I love you. You’re enough.
If you liked this, I’d really love to hear your comments, so please don’t be shy (comments make me do a happy dance).
This post was syndicated at Bonbon Break Magazine.