This one is gonna be really hard to write - but not hard to write, if that makes any sense. Just remember who is writing this!
In life, we try so hard to find that perfect certain someone who fits a statuesque version of the savior who will turn every dysfunctional thing into something functional; who will take every missing puzzle piece, and locate the puzzle and place where it belongs and put it there; who will be able to translate every word and deed into a result of years of horrible treatment. We want that non-broken person to put us back together.
Sometimes, we find it but are still stuck and incredibly unhappy. We have a few golden moments, but when the gold stops shining, we don't have any means to buff it back into a beautiful existence. When we are alone, we feel horrible, sad, depressed, heavy, and alone, even though we've got this person seemingly helping us.
We just feel broken.
If I could describe this to those reading this, brokenness might feel like just a glass that falls on the floor and breaks and shatters into a million pieces. For me, it is so much more than that.
It's the broken pieces on the floor with people stepping on them and intentionally ignoring it. It's a broken piece that is picked up and shattered into even more pieces, resulting in a smashed, sandy version that has no ridges or part of it that can be put back into the glass. It's me looking at the brokenness and doing nothing about it wishing that I could be a brand new, unwrapped, "just out of the package" glass with no history of ownership and nowhere to go except into the home of someone who will take care of it and make sure that no one damages it.
All this stuff above is bullshit. All of it.
When I met my husband 13 years ago, I didn't even know how broken I was until we got into the nitty gritty of our relationship. He and I grew up differently and had different experiences. However, I began to see how broken my husband was, and for a while, I felt like he had no reason to be. They had money; I didn't. They had education and college degrees; I didn't. They had a sense of family; I didn't.
Once he and I began to talk, we realized how much of who we are was truly just not put together, not because we ignored it - but because we didn't realize how much power we had OURSELVES to do the work, rather than depending on someone else to do it.
The most important part of this was understanding how easy it is to be happy every day and hang out, but how hard it is to accept the brokenness in each other and exist on that level and STILL love; STILL, be happy; STILL be there for others; STILL live in a space of acceptance and joy and thankfulness, and STILL...
STILL, be together and stronger than when the brokenness was ignored.
The lyrics say it clearly...
Maybe you and I were never meant to be complete
Could we just be broken together
If you can bring your shattered dreams and I'll bring mine
Could healing still be spoken and save us
The only way to last forever
Is broken together
There is no shame in my brokenness. I am proud of this broken individual. She has certainly made her share of mistakes and is not perfect. But through all of this crazy shit, she still loves, she still gives, she holds herself accountable, she cries a lot and sees 2 counselors, sometimes asks "why?", but still wakes up and keeps it movin. I love that I can look at my brokenness and learn from it and not be ashamed of it...
...Because my husband has taught me the beauty in our broken lives and how it's opened up an opportunity for us to heal as individuals, thus helping us heal together.
Don't be ashamed of your brokenness. You are part of a kick-ass group of folks who deal in truth. Be proud of who you are and all that makes you YOU.
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