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.
Honesty.
Children.
Dogs.
Love.
Life.
The truth: there is so much I value more than perfectly clean tidiness.
I AM A MESS!
4 comments:
Hardly a mess! You are fantastic!
I wish you could see yourself the way others do.... far from a mess!
And, yes, children and dogs and love and life are very messy. And very wonderful.
By the way, perfectly clean tidiness is way overrated.
I'll join in the rallying cry! I'm a mess!! Life is messy! And in accepting the messiness there is freedom. I cause myself a lot of stress by trying to pretend the messiness away.
You don't seem like a mess! Sometimes when one or two things is out of order in my life I feel like the whole world is askew.
ps: I like your sweater.
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