Falling apart for the sake of Real.

She feels things very deeply.  My daughter was about four months old when a friend offered un-tethered perspective to the escalation of her newish-born cries and my inability to soothe them.

It would be a long time before I gained perspective on my own feelings buried deep.

Five hundred and nineteen months before my cries reached a fevered pitch that slowed into mournful acceptance.

When the only thing you ever feel is anger…….

          Always anger

          Only Anger

          Only all-the-time anger

You forget that there’s anything else to feel.

Or, maybe you never knew in the first place.

you have to keep breaking

After five hundred and nineteen months. The tiniest tip of a needle reached through a hairline crack in the armor of my heart.  I was surprised to find it beating behind barricades of anger and deep disappointment.

I guarded it closely.

I had no idea that a shattered heart could be so sacred, hold such hope.

Can you cherish heartbreak?

Can the very poison you’ve quarantined  for 43 years be the medicine that heals?

When you’ve spent your whole life looking for something that you thought didn’t exist, and you find it? You take a lesson from Mary.

She  treasured all those things in her heart.   I treasured discovering mine for the first time.

There were tears and songs and  moments of sweet sadness I’d never felt before.  Because when you’re heart cracks and spills out all over, you finally feel alive.

And when you’re heart breaks for the first time, you discover there is intrinsic value in your soul.  A value separate from serving, attending, giving and loving.  A value disconnected from any action verb at all.  A value that rests solely on your state of being.

When it’s just you and your powdered heart and the God who created the precious thing in the first place, you’d be a fool not to store up that treasure.


you are valuable and loved simply because you are

So  I wrapped myself up in the hurt.I wasn’t hiding or wallowing,  I was finally feeling.

I honored my heart by giving it the space it needed. There were few reasons to go out there, and so I didn’t.

I found out that I could love my family better while expecting  less of myself.

I found out I had never before believed myself worthy of heartbreak, only worthy of spinning porcelain plates.

Forever laboring and twirling and somersaulting and jumping to  keep the plates spinning. All day, all night, fingers stretched a little higher to keep it all together.

But when the feel of Real reached down between the cracks of shame, it was finally time let the Lenox shatter.

The people pleasing.

The nodding at others.

The nodding  in the mirror.

The smile because that’s what you do while you’re dying on the inside.

It was finally time to let the whole thing crash and crumble too the ground  so that the powdered  parts of a real heart soaked with tears could begin to be molded, to take a different shape.

I sat in quiet. Listened to  music. Gave myself permission to feel in the absence of words that I didn’t bother to uncover.

I found that when you’re alone with your heart for the first time, the merciless need to explain yourself falls right to the floor.  It was the first time in five hundred and nineteen months that I didn’t need to give, or receive a nod.

When you’re introduced to yourself  for the first time, you finally feel understood.


The ways that our hearts can be broken are endless.    Have you ever treasured a broken heart?

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I'm a forty something women managing a busy family, working as a hair designer and trying to use my big-girl words.

5 thoughts on “Falling apart for the sake of Real.”

  1. Marcy,
    I treasure this post. I love how beautifully delicate your written words explain your true feelings and deep, deep pain. I really connected. My sacred place, along with my broken heart, resides behind a thick, endless wall of sweet safety, where little girls play freely, glittering and sparkling along their merry way. Thank you.



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