Shelby's 𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒇:

Pain.

Why are we hiding it?

Heartbreak.

Why are we glossing it over?

Debilitating anxiety.

Why do we pretend it’s not real in front of others?

Depression.

Why do we smoke and mirror the emptiness?

Suffocating worry and fear.

Why do we brush off the weightiness?

𝗦𝘂𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗪𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹.

So, why aren’t we talking about it?

We can’t run from something that makes up half of our human existence. Sure it’s great to gab about all our joy—the other half of our human experience. We should do that! There is much to be grateful for in our lives. But when we speak of our joy at the expense of being real about our struggles, who are we really helping?

Definitely not ourselves, because holding in all that negative energy and pain is killing us slowly. Disease is dis-ease. God knows I’ve experienced both forms of the word for a large chunk of my life.

And hiding our darkness is definitely not always beneficial for others because if someone is barely hanging on and all they see when they look around is presumed put-togetherness, where do they find hope?

It’s in the stories of overcoming that we find the strength to carry on. And we can help each other get there.

I’m not suggesting we get on social media and scream our diary out loud. The wild wild cyber west is hardly a safe space to bare our dark nights of the soul. The vicious comments we read on the posts of people who do are constant and unfortunate reminders of the ugly side of humanity.

What I am saying is that when we have an opportunity to spend time with a trusted soul sister or a crew of compassionate companions we need to find the courage and strength to speak our truth. To be real with someone willing to listen without judgment. To risk sharing with someone who understands how much strength it takes to be vulnerable, and would never dream of shaming us in return.

If we don’t know someone like that, we can be someone like that. We can be the change we want to see. We can be the listener, the encourager, and the holder of secrets. In doing so, we infuse sacredness into others suffering by our mere willing presence alone. What happens is a boomerang of peace and comfort that washes over us in return. It is in giving that we receive.

Last I checked the Bible, people back in the day were pretty proficient at sharing all of their agonies. Sure they cried out to the Lord, as do we. But they had a lot to say about the tough stuff to one another as well.

I don’t remember God ever recommending we do life on our own. He created us to be in relationship with one another. To be the love we are made of. And many hands make light the load.

At the end of the day, healed people heal people. And we can’t heal what’s not exposed. So, let’s let others shine a light into our darkness and accept the help, or let’s shine a light into someone else’s and offer our hope.

xo

Lisa's 𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒇:

No one tells the truth anymore.

At least not the whole truth.

Maybe we never did.

Maybe we fibbed big giant fibs when we spoke to one another at the bus stop. Maybe we embellished real life when we met up for a coffee. Maybe we lied when asked about our lives while seated beside each other at the winter concert.

And now, it's even easier to continue the charade when we walk through the social universe. Everyone's world seems hunky-dory. Everyone's except ours, that is.

Moms post glamour shots from their front porches waving to their perfect, straight-A students, boarding the shiny yellow school buses, driving through the acclaimed wonderful neighborhoods with white picket fences bordering the pristine houses on the corner with the happily married couples inside.

It resembles a type of utopia some of us have never known; nor will.

We're made to believe that no one else is struggling; no one else is having trouble putting one foot in front of the other.

At least that's what outward appearances would have us convinced of.

Where do we garner these false impressions? From EACH OTHER.

Then there's the truth. The REAL truth.

Moms everywhere are simply trying to muster enough strength and energy to wave to their children; the same precious children who are struggling in different ways, at different times, in different places.

These same Moms are trying to maintain an ounce of civility in their marriages, which are buckling under the weight of real life; anxiety, depression. heartache, identity crises, loss, postpartum, to name only a few.

When will we drop the facade?

Will we wait until it is almost too late?

What are we afraid of?

Being embarrassed?

Being humiliated?

Being mocked?

Being rejected?

Being FOUND OUT?

If we opened up the lines of communication beginning with honesty, we would make a life-affirming discovery; NO ONE has it together.

NO ONE is confident. NO ONE is secure. NO ONE feels like they're enough.

At this same moment, in every time zone across the country, throughout the world, under the same stars, the same sky, Moms everywhere are choking back tears.

Some of us cannot hold them back any longer. The dam has already burst.

Hopelessness has taken hold. It has a near-death grip.

Us Moms need immediate lifelines; some rays of hope.

Do you know who best to provide those lifelines? OTHER MOMS, because we KNOW.

We have to woman up. Speak our truth, loud, PROUD and clear.

We're not okay, and that's okay.

What's not alright is pretending we are. Then both sides lose the fight.

Let's battle our demons together. There's always strength in numbers.

And; When women unite, there's no more powerful force in the universe.

What do you say?

(This is a 𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗨𝗦 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 to our Momma book on all the emotions we deal with on a daily basis called, How Are You Feeling, Momma? (You don't need to say, "I'm fine.") Get 3 FREE chapters HERE follow Lisa Leshaw on FB)