Mascara wands and education

The first time I used mascara, I put it on my eyebrows. I remember I found the wand in my Grandmas bathroom. My Grandma, I believed to be very sophisticated and expensive and this is why she had things like bathtubs that were oval shaped with jets and mascara wands just lying about. I thought, I can always just wash it off after I use it. no one will ever know.

After realizing what I had done, that my eyebrows were way to dark, that this looked wrong, that I didnt know what I was doing, I took soap and toilet paper and scrubbed at my eyebrows attempting to get rid of any hint of the black mascara, I remember going downstairs and my mom giggled at me, asking what I had done to myself. why my eyebrows were so red (from my scrubbing) and also dark at the same time.

Before you laugh, let me give you some context, you bully.

My Mom is a hippy. No she doesnt smoke pot or let her armpit hair grow like she used to, but she does have hair down to her waste, long and wavy and soft and she wears things like natural deodarant, doesn't take showers everyday and only went through a very brief period of time when I was a teenager when she even touched mascara. and this was because I told her to.

I never learned about the stuff.
I never wore it or played with it as a kid or knew how to put it on.
No one ever took mascara and put it in my hand and taught me how to stroke it on carefully from underneath and on top, or how to curl the eyelashes. I only knew at that age how to catch bugs with my brothers and swing a baseball bat or climb into the woods that felt so familiar.

I think it is the same with emotions.

I have a friend who is very brave and very afraid all at the same time. This friend is like a butterfly with a damaged wing or a dog with three legs. there is a story below the layers she wears to comfort her wounds and hide from people out to harm or hurt her.

why do you do that? why are you so easily angry?
why are you so harsh and soft at the same time?

often it is because we are hiding.
often is is because it is what we are used to doing, something we always needed to do, and you can offer yourself, clear and simple without condition to a person that has been hurt and it will not make them feel safe right away.

Sometimes you have to press in. soemtimes it takes years.


Still, she is determined to fly to make it to walk.
because of all of this, I think she is very very very brave.

Anorexia

Anorexia

it was that tiny word that changed her entire life. it was saying it out loud.
I remember sitting on the couch for hours waiting for her to tell me what it was that had diseased her or kept her so far away or made her wish she had never lived.

Finally she said the word.
you woul dhave thought had killed someone she was hiding it so terribly, tucked safe i her fist like a gem she wouldnt let go of.

sometimes we dont want to let go of fears.

I think it is when we begin to dialogue, to say to write, to put it to story, to hang the dirty underware out in the open and know that there will be people who are disgusted by us, and there will be people who could care less. the people left in the room after you have shared are the humble people, the strong people, the people who understand what stepping carefully for years not to destroy yourself means

"Really, the things for me has always been that I have wanted to be known."

It was in the middle of a sentence as if she was talking about her porch, or the new color she recently put in her hair. It was a normal statement as if it had been read over and over. she knew this about herself.

we were tucked in a small restaurant in the east side of Grand Rapids eating smoked salmon and lemony berry french toast. But not in the same bite.

I think most things happen over food or coffee or a drink of sorts. I think this is where you can meet people where they are at.

I watched her linger over the words, the chartruese honey color of her eyes identical to her jacket, she used her pointer finger to articulate different parts of this sentence, her story. They came out more fluidly then they used to. She tells me everything. She doesn't leave out details. It has take awhile to get here.

I watch this desire to be truly known play out in her life.  Our warnings are always what drive our passions and our fears I think. You brace yourself against the fear of not being known, you push yourself into places where you feel "it is safe here, I can be known, I am seen."

There was a day almost 6 years ago now, when our friendship had started, she was sitting on the edge of the bathtub and I was on the toilet bowl (not going to the bathroom*), both of us defensive with our legs wrapped up near our chests and I remember Gods nudging to say to her "I won't give up on you, I am not going anywhere, I always want to be your friend."

This changed everything.
Her eyes were watering. She said simply, "okay."

It took years for her to believe me, but now once in awhile she gives me a verbal list of the people she trusts, the people who will stand up in her wedding, the people she can share the grit and grime of life and know they will a. tell her where she needs to turn back (more on that later) and b. applaud her into truth no matter how deep she has gotten herself.

This friend of mine had years of friendships that walked away. Little mistakes she made or big ones, the friendship wasnt strong enough to push through to step forward to say yes to the friendship despite the greivance and so she had for a long time built up this defense mechanism of pushing away, pulling away, saying things she didnt mean in haste. Apologies hadnt always cured things.

Dont think the words "no matter what" have not come easily for me. our warnings are always what drive our passions and our fears, remember. No matter what is a phrase I say now, often. Because I have been a person who doesnt believe it. a person who crumbles under pressure when someone says it. a person who tries to stand up tall, jump as high as I think I need to to keep the person liking me or respecting me. Afraid to fail. to lose out. to not be good enough.

I have grown up bracing myself against the fear of not being loved. I always expect the person to give up. It grows up in me after a fight like a tree. It is a weed that lingers until torn down. It is bondage that I continually have to learn to break and fight and say no too. It was not until I learned along time ago that I am loved unconditionally, really, deep in my heart, that I was able to offer this to another human.

and now, "no matter what" is my favorite thing to tell people.

It is what Jesus told me.

it is what I often have to remind myself Jesus told me.

It is my passion and my fear.