Unfortunately it's this same world that toys with you sometimes- negatively judges you, criticizes you- and there are people who only harm themselves (and others too) by intentionally projecting their internal emotions and self-ugly onto you. They pose as sweet and supportive but they aren't. Their goal is to get close to you because it's true, "misery loves company", but misery is really just miserable. Take your malice and self-destructing finger pointing and point it as yourself, darlin'.
DO this: Cut yourself off. Insta-permanent distance and know that your life is unchanged without them in it because this is the easiest thing about loss: severing ties with strangers who appear like dark magic and are flicked away just as quickly. This is called external control--celebrate the strength behind it.
There's good news, though.
You. are. beautiful. and that is unchanging.
The mirrors you turn your eyes away from reflect what you feel. What if mirrors were never created and we only had ourselves and one another to gauge self-beauty?
I admit that I have a very hard time looking at myself in the mirror because I too, don't believe my face exudes anything but ugly and guilt and pain. Sometimes I walk my days wondering if passersby see my insides written all over the drag in my step and the darkness surrounding my already-black eyes. I hide behind my face. Eye contact is tough as is sharing personal space, physical closeness and a heart-felt laugh. If I keep talking then I won't have to stop and think about why I don't want to talk or if I say nothing then I won't be noticed.
I completely understand what ugly and depressed and shame and guilt are either as singular emotions or meshed together into one, great ball of I'm so tired.
Listen, I never knew what internal beauty is until my brother passed away. Beneath all my grief lies a nugget of truth that beams and glitters from time to time. It took several months for me to understand that Charley's thoughts and deep love for me is unchanging- just because he's no longer here with me doesn't mean that our relationship is over. He said to me the night we baptized my daughter Mia, "If no one told you, you looked beautiful today. You are a phenomenal mother". These words resonate with me because he shared compassion and love for me, just for me, on one day that he was barely holding on. He put me first. He put my daughter first. And this crushes me. Still, for months I thought I'm not beautiful anymore and I'm unworthy of love. After sharing this sentiment with my therapist, she too, reassured me that these deeply-seeded words are alive beneath my shattered core. This nugget survives.
As unbearable as life is without my brother, I have learned to be present. My friend said to me just as we caught up last week, "You're alive now. You're awake. You speak differently and you see life differently. It's as though you were sleeping...and now you're not. You communicate with such force from your soul. And it's beautiful". I suppose it's true. I'm significantly more compassionate, fiercely loving, tender with emotions and words and careful that what I say is what I mean.
My brother Charley was very present in all the lives he touched and moved with. He's very present, still.
If it were minutes, hours or years, you had his undivided attention. He listens. He spoke with confidence and wisdom. He shines bright with his eyes and loud with his energy. He smiled almost all the time. I've never known or felt a smile quite like his. He is unique in his aliveness. He is beautiful for always.
And so are you. And so am I.
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