Why I don’t show up

All I’ve wanted to tell people over the past month is to grow the eff up, put on your big girl panties and  show up for your life. It’s a fire that was lit in me by one of the fathers in my life. Commit or be killed. Man up or shut up. Be a grown ass woman and do the damn thing.
But as the words started to come out, my BS monitored started to ding.

I haven’t been listening to my own war cries. 

It’s easy for me to call out the tangible examples of people not showing up. A parent forgetting to pick you up from soccer practice. A friend missing a coffee date.  An online date who chose to up and leave halfway through a drink (yes, that was a thing). 

How would this make you feel?

How did these things make me feel?

Like I didn’t matter. Like my time wasn’t as valuable. That I wasn’t worth it.

Or in the very real situation of a date leaving before they finished a drink–that I wasn’t acceptable. 

The tangible showing up is easy to see. And easy to call out. I have many a speech prepared were I to run into a few certain human beings.

But what about the not showing up that isn’t tangible.

Me and Washington aren’t the best of friends. I haven’t been shy to say this. I haven’t been shy to state that this has been the hardest staying season I’ve ever set foot in. But just because I say it doesn’t mean I’m necessarily working that hard to change.
I know I’m here, I know I am not leaving. Making friends, connections, working full time, making a name for myself in the wacky arena I find myself in, I signed another lease.

But diving in, is another story. 
I haven’t been showing up with my everything. I don’t let people in past a certain fence. I am not allowing strong bridges to be built.

Blunt honesty moment: I am scared of getting hurt, getting left behind, getting pushed to the side.

There is this one moment, etched in my mind, from when I was in fifth grade. I had walked to school by myself and went to go find “my friends” on the playground. Come to find out they were all hiding from me.

I think it was then that I realized needing people, friends, humans in my life was a weakness. A place I could get hurt. So even if I showed up, I had a defense. I had an ability to quarantine my heart off.

But just as physically choosing to not show up to work, or to ditch a friend is painful and effects those around you; choosing to not show up with your whole self for the people around you effects them  and is an action that tells people that you don’t trust them. 

Let me rephrase that: when I don’t show up for those I love, when I choose not to be here, I’m telling them I don’t trust them.

I know that I am too hard on myself, that I show up more often than not.
But I also know that there are fork in the road moments where I can chose to be there in the moment, or not be there at all and somewhere in this last year, it’s been easier to not be there at all. 

I realized this morning that somewhere in the past month I stopped caring. I stopped letting the hard things hit me, the tired things make me tired, because it became too much. I ran out of emotions for 2016.

I stopped showing up because it became easier to avoid the reminders that I was lacking something then to have it hit me in the face daily.

I think that somewhere in this year I got sick of being hurt by things that weren’t even set out to hurt me. 

I feel as if I am full of apologies to my friends, to the people around me whom I’ve maybe caused to feel worthless, useless or unloved.

I’m full of anger at myself for letting it get to this point.

But, I’m also filled with hope for myself. That in the midst, I am still here. 

I’m choosing these days to not let my offenses with myself pile up. I’m choosing not to beat myself up over how horrible a job I’ve done, or when I am unable to get kids to sleep.

That’s my slow way of journeying into showing up. Reflecting. Taking what I need, and moving on.

Choosing to know that when I show up for these humans, they will be there for me.

And knowing that they haven’t given up on me yet.

So, if you need a speech on showing up, I am fully prepared to give it, but in this journey of living wholehearted, this area is a work in progress. I’m ok with that. And I’m thankful for those around me allow it.

One response to “Why I don’t show up”

  1. Megs, this is my most favorite thing you’ve written yet! Such vulnerability, honesty, and grace. I felt every word with you. Keep being you. ‘Cuz YOU is beautiful! xo

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