Sometimes I feel alone as I weather the storm. On social media, so many women appear to have it “all together.” Meanwhile, I sit alone with soldiers battling inside my mind and body. The battle is fierce, but I make a choice. I choose to keep it “all together.” I find myself climbing, striving and pushing. I move through the motions, but the pain climbs, strives and pushes me too. The battle is too brutal. I flee. Yes, I flee and abandon the pain. But the pain cries out like an abandoned child.
Days pass. And the pain catches up to me, stabbing at my limbs like a murder victim. I lay there, weathering the storm, alone and afraid. I begin to crawl instead of climb; struggle instead of strive; pause instead of push. But it’s not easy to climb, strive and push for days on end. My battle becomes vicious, until I can’t flee anymore.
And in a breaking moment, my friend is nearby. When I break open, to my surprise, she breaks open too. Our tears break with untold stories. Breaking open frees us. Yes, it frees us from the solitude of captivity. We take hands and decide to weather the storm together.
Sharing our pretty, ugly, scary, shameful, painful stories is bold – it’s an oasis.