The ugliest of secrets…

There are so many things… layered things deeply woven within my journey as a wife, as a woman and as a mother. We are subconsciously trained, here in this culture we call home, to look at the beautiful, well put together women and wonder What’s her secret? While also bristling internally about the knowledge of what our secrets are.

I may not know what hers is, but mine- Mine is ugly. It does not lead to put together, it does not lead to beauty.

My secret is the shame attached to every single element of my real, genuine life. My motherhood, daughterhood, marriage, sisterhood… On and on. You tell me a story about your father and then ask me about my own dad. I smile and relay the information, while the secret part beneath the surface that remains unsaid screams the truth- I don’t really know my father. My dad isn’t actually even my dad. He’s someone else’s dad. He loves me, I love him, but our lives are different circles of things now and though we exchange and annual something-or-other, we are pretty separate and that is ok. What ownership do I have of him? None. Fatherless and unvalued, there in lies my secret shame.

Your sister is your best friend, and now you’re asking if I am close with mine? I have several sisters but am close with two of mine. Sisters are the best! Except, gurgling just beneath my horizon there’s more. There is a defect within me, there must be, and the reality is that they aren’t really my sisters. Not beyond the word anyway. I have no one real, that is mine. Shame.

My marriage of twenty-five years, what’s our secret? It hasn’t been perfect. There hasn’t been faithfulness. There hasn’t always been stability, honor, honesty, love… Ease. If you only knew…

Shame… Shame eats away at the fact that my children are not from my womb, shame lives in the many words and perspectives who’ve challenged my motherhood and questioned its validity. Oh, Hallmark of consumer driven holidays, do I deserve a Mother’s Day nod, a celebration, am i even a real mom at all? World, which reiterates over and over a woman’s purpose is to bear children- and Very beginning of the Bible which explains a woman’s curse will be painful childbirth- who am I? What am I? 

My secret is shame. My truths, the REAL truths, they silence the shame. For awhile anyway- but it always comes back. Today- today I see it for what it is.

Shhh, between you and me, tomorrow I may forget again…

(this post is in participation of the FMF prompt on Secret. to see more, visit the link.)

20 Comments »

  1. Thank you for your honesty. I also struggle with shame. I think that there are many that struggle with shame if we are completely honest. Thank you for sharing your story, and the reminder that the real truth can silence the shame. I hope you have a lovely weekend.

  2. I loved this blog post! It’s like the opposite of a Facebook post where everyone presents their shiny shiny life. But this is my story, too – the secrets we keep to ourselvs and fear to bring to the light.

    Great to connect with you via fiveminutefriday – I’m also a writer with chronic illness (housebound with severe myalgic encephalomyelitis) and I also write honestly about Life and Stuff. Best wishes!

    • Heading there to subscribe and nose around RIGHT NOW… I do strive, in all that I do, to be as real as possible… So often, speaking of FB, people’s idea of vulnerability is how they are feeling, in the moment, and usually regret it later… It’s a hard time, for sure!

  3. The secret is that we all feel the same way. None of us feel very well put together.

    I’m glad to meet you, and I’m looking forward to getting to know you a bit better through our blogs. :)

    Have a great day.
    Hugs,
    Melinda

  4. We share the same Father, Misty! We are princesses together in the sisterhood of life. My story may not be your story, but I know that whenever I feel shame or less then, I just have to tell satan to get behind me and look up to my Father. He dusts my tiara off, sets it back on my head, and assures me that I. Am. HIS. And I’m a princess.

  5. Your transparency reminds me that we are all more alike than different some are just more open about it. I thank you for sharing honestly and know that though my shame is different than yours it is always trying to read it’s ugly head. Thank goodness we also share a God who can whip that shame into shape! Your words touch me, Cindy #fmf

  6. Oh, Misty! I hear you.

    My life’s been a worldly disaster, with failure at every turn, and a past that offers no real invitation to nostalgia. And since I’m slowly being killed by a very painful cancer, there’s no opportunity for a ‘turnabout’; even if there’s time, it all hurts too much.

    But all is not lost; the sun rises to bring a new day, and I can make that day, that hour count.

    It’s something, and for me, now, it’s enough.

    • Wow… Thank you for sharing your journey. There is nothing promised to us, guaranteeing that picture perfect life we all think we should have, is there? I am absolutely humbled by what you wrote. None of us, no matter what social media filters we use, have been separated from struggles and maybe each of us has felt like it isn’t fair. We were never promised fairness… That’s a tough pill to swallow. I am grateful for transparent people like you, though, who share your journey and still persevere without losing hope. THANK YOU!

    • oh dear Brother Andrew,
      your reminder that ‘all is not lost, the sun rises to bring a new day, and I can make that day, that hour count’
      if only we lived with this remembrance…how different life would be. thank you friend.

  7. Thanks for sharing so honestly! I think we all have parts of our lives where we feel shame but it helps when we can be honest about those things even with one other person and know that they accept us as we are.

  8. Misty, this is so powerful. Such tough, deep questions. We don’t much about each other’s stories do we? So often we make so many assumptions, and that can lead to such pain in the recollection. Thank you for sharing the truth of some of those questions with us. Its hard to share the truth. Shame is such a heavy weight isn’t it?

  9. My secret is that I am crazy. I am a yeller. I am not a nice wife or mom way too often. I am insanely protective of my kitchen and don’t even like anyone else to clean it let alone cook in it. I treat my husband like he is my father instead of my partner. I have a really hard time actually making true friends because I can’t commit emotionally. I am selfish and lazy and would prefer to just spend most days in bed. I can’t be depended on to help out with PTA or 4H or anything that requires me to show up and do a job or project because the stress of it makes me physically ill. I can’t hold a job for that reason either. I am a perfectionist who is incapable of follow through. I am a complete hot mess most of the time.

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