Broken Manequin

Summer 2019 my world as I knew it ended. Atomic Bomb level. Mass destruction whose waves would reverberate well into 2021.

Who was I?

That was a question that would be answered as I went along. As I tried to pick up the trillions of molecules of myself that had exploded everywhere.

Life before was beautiful. Lovely.

Lovely children, lovely home, lovely, shiny things everywhere.

Lovely, lovely, lovely.

But not heart based. Not much deeper than the shallow end of the pool of life.

Overall, blessings were abundant, don’t get me wrong. In the grand scheme of things, life was nearly perfect. I just wasn’t living authentically. I wasn’t a whole human. I danced along to this thing called life following every rule, going by whatever society stated was good and right and lovely.

Wake up, go to church, read the bible, go to bible study, take the kids to church, take the kids to church, take the kids to all the things. Come home, make the things, take pretty pics, post pretty pics, do pretty little things like we are supposed to. Live a life out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

That was the life.

It was a good life. A good, giant, blessed life.

But something was off.

Why, in a mountain range of “good and lovely” wasn’t I happy? Because something was off.

I did the things. Danced the dance. Dressed the part. Showed up.

Only I loathed most of it.

Now, three years out I realize why.

It wasn’t heart centered. It was shiny and pretty and “perfect” but not heart based.

Halloween 2020 I dressed up as a “Broken Mannequin.” I face painted myself like a boss. I don’t think I’d ever done face make-up like that before. I was proud of myself. My first whole halloween doing it by myself. I didn’t quite understand what was actually up with my choice of ‘costume’ that year, but I do now.

It was representative of what actually happened. I had broken out of the “lovely, perfect” exterior. The real me was making its way out. Cracking it’s way through the facade I had created based on the expectations of society.

“Stay a certain size” (Even though you’re middle aged, love donuts, have two kids and love naps) “Always smile” Even though for some reason I always felt like I was dying a slow death. “Be kind.” Even though this floating rock can be quite cold and cruel at times.

The “Broken Mannequin” I dressed up as that year was me. I was broken.

But in the best way. I just didn’t know it then. I didn’t feel it yet. I was in the first stage of trauma.

Shock.

Who was I? What was going to happen? Who am I single? What about the kids? What about life? You’ve not really been responsible for life other than keeping two little people alive and fed for 14 years…now what the eff what? How do you human alone as an entire adult?

Heck if I know.

Not to mention one of my favorite people on the planet, my greatest cheerleader and help and heart who gave me life was now also fully dependant on me and like 1% of who she was before is in there now….. NOW WHAT THE EFF WHAT?!

What is life now?

Well, it was a wreck. It was a hurricane. It was the remains of an atomic bomb.

But I wanted to do it with love.

And gentleness and kindness. I had two little people watching and scared and wondering what the eff what right along with me. Their tiny hearts had been broken right along with mine….. now what the eff what?

Now love.

Now rebuilding.

Now glue.

Now….time moves at a snails pace because as our little world had been bombed into the the next multiverse… so too had the entire world’s. Whispers of a pandemic. Then shut down. Quarantine. Homeschooling. New people, new homes, new time with parents and kids and now what the eff what.

Love.

Rebuilding.

Glue.

I’m proud of my former husband and I for how we were and how we are now. We did good. There’s glue and it’s good.

And myself. I’m a whole entire human. An entire adult.

I’m not the same.

I can feel it.

My spirit was all rainbows and butterflies and unicorns. It’s not anymore. But it’s ok.

I still dance.

I still sing.

I’m just hyper aware of the fact that people can break you. They can blow you up. They can destroy you.

But love.

And time and gentleness and glue.

No one is perfect.

No one.

But love.

And time.

I know that in the face of a hurricane I’m still kind. That when the Devil knocks I stand and face him (and invite him to Heaven to see God (giggles to self)) That part of me is the same. The love. The kindness. I’m just guarded now. Aware. People can suck. Heck, I can suck. I can be an entire human with every single thought and giant feeling.

After the brokenness that’s what I understand now.

I am whole.