I see you laughing at a park playdate smiling and chatting with other moms as you push your toddler on the swing while keeping another eye on your five-year old climbing on monkey bars. I see you dressed in the latest fashionable chevron scarf to match your perfectly chosen outfit. I see you going on dates with your husband and on ladies night with your girlfriends in order to nurture each of those relationships so that they fulfill your desires.
I see you going to church and bible studies and trekking your kids to all of the activities that you put them in to help them “grow”. I see you “pinning” the next greatest recipe and DIY projects that you want to create in your home in order to make it “pinterest” worthy.
I see you.
I also see the you that hopes no one sees “you”.
I see you when someone asks how you are and you respond with an “I’m Fine” because it’s easier and you know they don’t want to hear of your trials anyway. It’s easier that way.
I see you comparing yourself, your latest attire and the behavior of your children to the lady in front of you at Target.
I see you hiding. Crying on the inside because the deep crevices of your heart are covered in pain and turmoil.
I see you struggle to wake up each morning ready to fight the demons inside yourself and figure out who you are. I see you pour your coffee hoping it will make your day just a little bit easier while at the same time wanting the smash the pot against the wall just out of the internal frustration.
I see you crying in the shower because no one can see or hear you.
I hear the voices in your head battling against each other. One telling you, “You are not good enough” while the other tells you, “You have so much to be thankful for.”
I see you broken. I see you hurt.
I see you searching. Searching for the “you” that would bring you a sense of peace that surpasses all and that truly defines you.
I see you searching for that one friend that looks at you and knows everything about you and you don’t have to explain any of it. They just get it. I see you desperately searching for that friend. I see you scared to have that friend that you share your secrets with.
I see you going to bed at night on a tear stained pillow, marking another day off your calendar and wondering where “you” fit in that day.
I see the pain and regret that you carry of your past trials. I see that you don’t let any of that go.
I see you share your joys with the world while being scared to death that you might share too much.
I see your scars. Your million scars. The scars of our past that you try to define yourself by. I see every scar that you have as a sign that you have overcome.
I see the confusion in realizing who you are. I see you question your doings on a daily basis about what truly makes you happy. I see your sadness when you can’t find that. I feel your sadness.