a wild collective blog – original post date: May 15, 2019
These three words – to be known – were said to me a long while ago during one of my darkest moments where doubt had overrun all rational thought. I was sharing my emotions with a best friend, which is nothing out of the ordinary for her and I, but in that moment, she saw right through me and understood what was needed.
She had realized long before I did that what I needed was that grand and that simple: To Be Known. Friends let me tell you, when those words left her mouth and leapt into my brain, I just…stopped. And then wept.
For… isn’t this what each of us want? To be known for who we are and not for what others believe us to be? To be accepted for the beauty we have now versus what we may have lost or have yet to take back (for ourselves, by ourselves)? To be seen for the talents we bring on our best days but understood completely even on our worst, where nothing we do is good enough?
To be loved and wanted for all that we have to give – while remaining mindful of what we take from others. To understand the balance between this is arduous as well; we must take only what we need and nothing more. Because we all need something from someone else. We all crave and long and hope and that’s normal, it’s natural. It’s when there’s an imbalance in this structure that an irreparable hurt-seed is planted and thus, resentment begins to grow.
I need to acknowledge first that we aren’t stand-alone creatures, no matter how much we may enjoy our “alone time,” and I certainly love my me-time. We are not meant to go through the crazy chaos and gut punch that is life as a solo unit. And sure, it’s healthy to honor and value our free time but what is life if you don’t have companions walking beside you along the way?
Bleak. That’s what life would be, bleak.
And sure, I could go on and on about how bleak my days have been since learning of dad’s diagnosis but I’ve made the choice to be hopeful. It’s tough as fuck already and I fail and will continue to do so along the way but …to bring it back around… if I am known for who I am, the journey – all of it – seems a lot less scary.
To know I’m loved for the ridiculous monster I am is a fucking blessing. To know my quirks are accepted and received and recognized is a blessing. To feel safe and secure in the proverbial hands of another is just… a gift. Every single one of these (and more) is a gift and while I can never say for sure who I have this true give and take with and who I don’t (more on this later) I can assure you that I finally know what it feels like to have it.
In the past I once thought I had this partnership of trust and companionship and maybe for a brief moment in time I did. But the devil wears many faces and some have been people I mistakenly trusted my life with – only to be spat on and kicked out. Pushed away because of their fear or because selfish motivations had enough of the pretend – any number of reasons, really. In the end they had their fill of me and that was that. This is nothing new to this blog (the negative stuff) so I’m not going back into that bullshit, but rather the opposite of it – being known.
Being known is everything I said above and yet…more. So much more. It’s allowing yourself to love the way you love, to deeply adore all that brings joy and passion to your life, to follow your heart no matter where it may lead you, and being UNAFRAID to share it with the ones who know you. The ones who want your good and bad and indifferent. The ones who, you can just tell, think about you and worry for you and wonder about how you are, how’s your day going, here, have a funny inside joke/meme/gif to help because I fucking love you you gorgeous bitch.
That’s the tip of the iceberg when it comes to being known. And I will never forget these words, just as I will never forget to honor them with the people I form true connections with. It’s a blessing, it’s a damn blessing, you hear me?
And no matter how many times I’ve said this in the past, I will continue to echo it through the ages:
And then don’t let go. Shit will hit the fan, they will hurt, upset and let you down. But that doesn’t mean jackshit in the long run. Find them, hold tight and I promise – you won’t regret a single bit of any nonsensical fuckery that happens along the way.