I am fake?
The first thing that pops in my head is that it can't mean appearance wise. I wear no make-up, hair up in a pony tail and the last time I bought something new to wear, was for a funeral. I don't get my nails done, feet done, anything done. I decided to stop using dye for my hair. My grays are soft and pretty and I hate the idea of using extra chemicals and being consumed with consuming, in general. Nothing fake there.
My butt, is real... no implants... I know right?
Next, I look at my surroundings. I live in a humble, farmhouse that is screaming to be remodeled, and I am, doing that a little at a time. But, I have a roof over my head, and I am thankful. I am on the eclectic side, but definitely plain-ish. I have some old treasures I have accumulated, but all has been thrift store buys, except for the couch. Bought a new couch a year ago.
My lifestyle: I call myself a farmer now. I know I am not a giant farmer, or even a great one, but I do grow my own food, raise animals, and do my best to find new ways to make my small farm work. I don't hire anybody, and I do most of it by myself. I am not a diva, not spoiled, not rich, not popular, not famous, not glamorous. I am just a Mom Monk, living her life out.
What could she mean? Fake. How was she trying to help me? How can I allow her to help me?
Here are some things I believe to be true. I am compassionate, non judgmental, and giving, but I also have boundaries. Boundaries, are good, and very helpful to some people who abuse your good will. I am both honest and forthcoming. If I have any concerns, you will be the first person I discuss it with. I am also extremely self aware and I am great at self regulating as I near 50. I often look for the higher meaning, the bird's eye view, the cup half full approach. I do "fake it 'till I make it". That is only when I can, and that has more to do about visualization, and the power of positive thinking, (aka magic), than it does being an imposter. This doesn't mean that I do not have my own set of fears, sorrows and regrets. I am perfectly imperfect. I accept this, and there is no more struggle when you can accept the things you cannot change. When I say something, I mean it. I not about fluff, I am about substance. I make no claims to be right. I can only speak of my truth. I have seen the worst, lived through it, dealt with it, and I will always have that little bit of darkness that I carry. I can't ignore it, and I can't erase it, but I can find peace beyond working through it. And right now, my life is not perfect, or is it? I am doing the best I can with what I have and that is good enough, in fact it is great.
But to her, I am fake. I think fake is being used as a noun as it applies to me:
anything made to appear otherwise than it actually is; counterfeit: This diamond necklace is a fake.10.
a person who fakes; faker: The doctor with the reputed cure for cancer proved to be a fake.11.
a spurious report or story.12.
Sports . a simulated play or move intended to deceive an opponent.
I keep going back to this comment she made. She has said it several times to me. "You are a fake." In the context of a conversation when she was sounding almost angry at me for simply being happy. Why on earth would someone who loves you, becomes angry for your ordinary happiness?
I can only refer myself to the FOUR AGREEMENTS.
What she said to me was more about her, than me. I will never be able to understand all the nuts and bolts of that. I can keep banging my head against a wall, or I can keep going back to what I hold to be true.
This blog is not about you. It is about me. What I say comes from my own experiences. It is my take. I take full responsibility for all words coming out of my mouth. 10 people can see an accident, but when asked, there will be ten different stories. Some might be close, but it was seen by 10 different sets of eyes. Some will say the car came from that direction, the other might say. no, it came from this direction. Both people seeing the same incident, but standing on different sides of the road.
I know some people that are having a really, really tough time, for very real reasons. My heart aches for them. I might not know it exactly how it is, but from my own experiences, I can relate. I also know that for every heart break out there, there is always something worse. It doesn't take it away, but it gives the person who experiences the very darkest hours, to be able to relate to others. There will be someone who may need your precious point of view one day. At least know,while you are in the dark, that there is such thing as light. To believe in the light, know it will come back, some way, some day. Your tragedy is a part of you and now, you are wiser. You are that much more aware and you can be a more seasoned individual because of it and somebody who is then capable to reach out to another. You can't save those who do not want to be saved, but you can be an inspiration, by living life by your own truth. Be true to yourself.
It is ok I am a fake to one person in this world? Maybe even two or three people, who knows? What on earth can I do about it? Nothing.
I wrote this to get it off my chest. To expose that bit of darkness to light. Why? because I saw somebody else brave enough to do it. She has been laying it all out there. I know she feels like the readers are being burdened by her troubles, but it is the reverse. Her realness, inspires others to reflect, and touch that place where the real lives and breathes. It is a reminder that it is ok to be vulnerable, and sad. To be confused, or misunderstood. It's ok. Her story, mirrors mine, more than she even knows.
We are more the same than we are different. <---That is about you. If you allow it to be.
Thanks for listening to me think out loud. I wrote myself right through to a solution. I am grateful for the lesson that will keep coming to me in different forms until I learn it for good.