An unanswered text message…not personal
A belated birthday wish…not personal
Forgetting to ask how you are doing…
Seeming distracted when we do talk…
Interrupting stories and forgetting to ask you to continue…
It’s not personal.
You see pictures of me smiling and happy on social media and you assume, “Why can’t she just respond?”
You don’t see the severe anxiety under the surface or the challenges it took to get out of the house
How under my smile is a ticking explosive waiting for one of my children to fall, run, spill, sh*t
That the smiles are real, and perhaps greater than any smile I’ve ever flashed you
But the overwhelm is equally as real.
Overwhelm most of us hide, because we don’t want to seem ungrateful.
These children are a blessing, right?
It goes by so fast, right?
We’ll miss this, right?
But don’t we miss you?
Do we still even like you?
It’s not personal.
How quickly a dog becomes a dog, when there is a baby in the house.
It’s not personal
I have nothing left to give you.
But it’s not YOU.
It’s not personal
Texts and emails unread.
Spill, sh*t, cry, smile
Stories left unfinished.
It’s not personal
I still love you and I still think of you, I assure you
But maybe for this season of life…
Maybe while my sun seems to solely shine upon these little saplings…
Instead of needing me to redirect some of that light, maybe instead you grab a mirror and help me shine that light even brighter.
That you amplify that light and my love through interest in my children and reflecting my struggles.
Because my absence, my disconnection, it’s not personal
But if you can help me beam a little brighter so I don’t have to shine so hard, then I promise, the presence I will be able to give you, absolutely will be personal.
