Dirty and Smiling

I was talking to a new friend the other night about how much easier it would be to be *this* instead of *that*. 

To be filthy instead of just a little muddy

To be completely shattered instead of wounded and limping along

To be scared of the outside but still getting up and leaving your house every morning because what else could you do instead of pulling the covers over your head and drifting into oblivion.

This partial brokenness seems to be caught in a limbo of neither redeemed or cast out.
But I don't really understand why.
Because aren't most people caught in that limbo, just putting on a pretty face and dealing with it secretly?

It seems the more I open my mouth and tell people about my damage the more people I see glance around and whisper, "Me too."

I was mad at first. At this legion of people that just never said anything and left me feeling completely alone and adrift.
But then I realized, I hadn't been saying anything of substance either anyway.
I had said things, but they were sarcastic and couched in the, "Oh, well...everyone has something" language.

Now I'm saying, "I don't understand relationships. I would like to have healthier friendships where I don't always feel so less than. This abuse has affected me in a way that infects every relationship and I am incapable of just getting over it and simply not thinking about it every day."

And I hear the whispers of, "me too"

So, maybe we can stop comparing each others brokenness and just get down to the business of helping them pick up the pieces.

Maybe we can face our own demons and trauma and work through them so we can help others along the path to the person God is making them into.
Maybe we can sit with people that aren't rainbows and sunshine happy all the time and just be with them instead of plying them with platitudes and then urging them to just keep silent because the jagged edges scare you.

I'll go first.

I am not an angry girl
but it seems like I've got everyone fooled
every time I say something they find hard to hear
they chalk it up to my anger
and never to their own fear
and imagine you're a girl
just trying to finally come clean
knowing full well they'd prefer you
were dirty and smiling
Ani DiFranco - Pretty Girl