One of my favorite coffee mugs fell, from the cabinet, this evening and shattered into a dozen of pieces. This happened because mugs, which I have BEGGED not to be put in the cabinet, were put in the cabinet. Again. And I am mad. Not because a coffee mug broke, but because there are things in my life which I say over and over and over again, and they are never heard. It often feels like no one wants to listen, until I am upset, and then everyone simply believes I am the bad guy for blaming them. It is an ugly cycle, ending once again, with something broken.
It really isn’t about a shattered mug at all, it is about wondering when my words will matter. Sometimes I feel like my voice only exists for my ears, until someone needs something. If I am honest I will admit that this was one of the many things that led me on that isolated and lonely journey fourteen months ago. Some days I just get really tired. I, like every other woman, want my thoughts, words, feelings, etc. to matter. To my spouse, my kids, my family and friends. I am tired.
I am taking a class on being a good listener. My daughter, who put my mug in the cabinet (again x’s infinity), is also taking the class. (Ironic, no?) I have learned so much within the walls of this classroom, as of late. (also, I really wish my husband would take this class. In fact, I think every person on the planet should.) Today, in class, we had a group activity where we practiced healthy and respectful listening to a classmate, and then followed that with unhealthy “listening”. I was pretty blown away by this exercise. Much more than I had imagined. I learned, more than anything, that we’ve each got the same problems with different details. We are all tired. We are all, at times, begging to be validated, pleading to be heard for what we are actually saying (not what the “listener” wants to think we are saying), and tired of our own voices saying the same things over and over, because our message just doesn’t matter enough to those within listening distance.
So, here it is: I am tired. I want to be priceless, desirable, irreplaceable and of more worth to my husband than any other woman. I want my heart to be so valuable, to him, that he will do anything to protect it. I want my kids to want me to be their mom. I want to matter to them, and for my words to be something they find value in. I want beautiful relationships with them, relationships where they hold tight because I won’t always be there. I want friendships that are as simple as coffee dates, book store adventures and movie nights- but as deep as unison tears over fears shared and heart stitchings. Most of the time I feel like everyone in the world has all of these things figured out, and I’m the one left begging for someone (anyone) to explain how to get there too… And then today happens, and I realize I am not. We are each tired, aching, and just not enough- or so it feels…
So, just so you know- if you ever need an ear, I am here. And I am learning how to listen better because, at the end of the day, we all want to matter enough to be heard.
I have a pile of shattered glass in my kitchen to prove it.
2 thoughts on “Things which are broken…”
You’re words are so eloquently spoken and resonate with my heart. Well written..
I hear you and so relate. Beautifully written.