Too many of us have come to believe the lie that we have to put on a pretense of happiness and success and popularity. We have come to believe that our sadness is not okay or that our fears cannot be openly shared.
When we admit we are all messed up, we can never again live as though we aren’t. We are forced into a place where people can no longer see us as “The Jones” with perfect lives and lawns and children and bodies. We can begin to have conversations—albeit somewhat slowly at first—where we let people see a bit of our true nature.
“I had a hard night” becomes less scary to say out loud and leads to a deep conversation with a colleague who is trying to quit drinking.
“I feel alone” becomes the starting point with a neighbor who is struggling to raise her kids while her husband travels for weeks on end.
“I’m disappointed I didn’t get that raise” breaks the silence for those who continue to be rejected in many parts of life.