(Inspired by Alli Worthington's "I am... " Project)
I am a mess.
I have said or written or thought that phrase more times than I can count, usually with a tinge of self-hatred and often with the word "such" inserted in there for emphasis.
It is an admission. It is a request for sympathy, empathy, or even - I'LL TAKE IT - pity. It is a preemptive excuse.
It is a blanket with which to cover myself and hide.
But maybe it could be an acceptance. Maybe it could be a non-judgmental fact. Maybe it could be embraced. Maybe it could be a rallying cry.
In mess there is reality.
The truth: there is so much I value more than perfectly clean tidiness.
I AM A MESS!