Some days you look back at the mirror and you don’t know who the person staring back at you is, or rather you don’t want to know. He’s not the guy you thought you would see 5 years ago. Heck, he’s not even the guy you thought he would be yesterday.
It’s one thing to zip around your friends, chatting about your dilemmas and mentioning your dreams in passing. You give them a flavor of what’s in your heart without really letting them in. You expose the flaws that are acceptable or the ones that are trending, but make sure to leave out the ones that keep you awake at night. Those issues are the ones that might distance you from your very friends.
It’s really not too hard to recite your resume to strangers and to blast your weekly ten minutes of contentment on social media. No one needs to know about the worries and concerns that grip you. They don’t have to know that you flaunt everything you have in order to disguise the gaping hole in your satisfaction. They don’t have to know that you hang on the precipice of your own success, your entire body moaning just to stay alive.
But that’s why, on this kind of day, you’re the last person you want to see. Because in front of him, you’re you.
In front of him, your happiness isn’t measured by the width of your smile splashed across your face as you skipped across the Caribbean. It isn’t packaged in memories that live as intangibles. It’s measured by the warmth of your heart and the joy that resonates when everything is still.
In front of him, your fulfillment isn’t measured by the busyness of your life or even the impact you’ve had on the world. When you’re alone, it doesn’t take into account all the check boxes of life you’ve marked off. Fulfillment only considers the motive of your heart and your ability to stand before your declarations with integrity.
In front of him, your worth isn’t measured by the fabric wrapping your barren shoulders but the weight of which those shoulders bear. Your worth isn’t measured by the vehicle that carries you, but the ideas, passions, and convictions your heart holds. Your worth isn’t calculated by the pristine of your hands or the suave of your hair but by the bruises of failure and the sores adventure have imprinted on your feet.
And so you look at the face. Today it might be downtrodden, yesterday it might have been hopeful, and tomorrow, who knows what it’ll look like. Maybe it’ll be a face you’ve never seen before.
You stare at it and you begin to recognize that it’s you. Slowly, the facade of the image you’ve curated falls away as the raw intensity of your life’s existence begins to speak.
You’re not allowed to look away.
You don’t want to look elsewhere.
Because right now, exposed, vulnerable, and honest, that’s when you’re fully you.