Yesterday I was that girl. That girl on the tube who sat there and couldn’t stop the tears from rolling. That girl who tried to hide her face and not make eye contact because if anyone had asked if she was OK, she couldn’t have held it together.
Except nobody did ask, and that silence was deafening.
Yesterday felt like I was just pushing on alone, and the loneliness took hold as I tried to stand up strong but instead buckled slowly under the weight of everything.
Yesterday I ran out of ways to pretend I was fine, to paint on the smile and keep it in place until I got home and could let my guard down on my own.
Yesterday it felt like it all came crashing down.
And then today I began to slowly rebuild…
There’s a traditional Japanese art called Kintsugi (bear with me here, I know I’ve gone somewhat off piste from my normal ramblings) where broken objects are repaired with golden lacquer as a way of honouring the breakages as part of that object’s history and making the subsequent scars a thing to be acknowledged and a part of that object’s beauty, rather than something to be disguised. And today I decided to embrace the art of Kintsugi with myself and rather than keep on hiding the cracks to the point where I’ve allowed them to become destructive, I’ve decided to paint them in gold and put them out there.
And let me tell you this, I’m fucking scared of putting myself out there. I’m terrified of trying to be brutally honest with myself about the things that have almost broken me before, and the things that I fear could break me again. But what I’ve slowly realised of late is that it’s not about needing to be strong all the time, it’s about seeing the cracks and embracing them as a part of who you are. Heartbreak, loss, grief, failure and disappointment aren’t things to be ashamed of – instead, they’re things to be proud of because they’re the proof that you loved, and you lived, and that you damn well tried.
Because when it comes down to it, there’s really not much point living your life in a way that protects you from things that might hurt you and allowing yourself to be held back because of that fear. That’s a bit like living in a nuclear bunker, y’know, just in case… (although if Trump becomes President I’ll see you in the bunker and make sure you bring the gins in tins). Plus, it’s ridiculous how many of the people and the things that have shaped my life for the better have come about from the knocks I’ve had along the way, and the twists and turns that my life took in the wake of those. Those people and those things are the gold lacquer to my fault-lines, and quite frankly they are fucking beautiful.
So here’s to the cracks that appear along the way, and the repairs we all have to make to ourselves on a daily basis just to keep moving forwards. Life really isn’t easy, I for one don’t really think it’s meant to be, but it can sometimes feel overwhelmingly difficult and shit, and there are days, weeks, and months where it just might break you a bit (yes, even with all the motivational instagram quotes it can still happen, shocking I know). And yesterday was one of those days for me. But when that happens and those cracks start to show, I’m going try my best to stop, take a moment, get out my golden pritt stick and embrace them, because I’m pretty sure if we all look hard enough there is some kind of beauty to be found within those broken bits.
