Meet Marci
“What’s new?”
Nothing.
These are the answers I thought these questions were supposed to have. I actually believed that there weren’t any other options when answering these kinds of questions even though I know this is not reality. Nonetheless, this was the boilerplate answer.
I always had friends growing up, great friends, actually. As a kid, I went to an overnight camp. As a young woman, I was a member of a sorority. As a young adult, I had amazing roommates. But I also had a wall. A super fortified wall all around me. I never shared my real feelings, my inner thoughts, sadness or struggles. I’m not sure I would have even known how to share them. I had roommates that would complain that I would disappear for days into my room or constantly go run “errands.” They didn’t understand that those were my times to be alone. My time to feel. When I returned, I would be good.
I did eventually fall in love with the most amazing man. A man I know loves me for the real me and I love him for his true self. It is with him that I am able to really show my insides. When we met, he became my introduction into openness. He taught me. When we began our relationship I found him complimenting me or saying he loved me for the things that I would typically hide. He loved the parts of myself that I was always embarrassed of. The loud-laugh-too-hard-in-public-then-crying-and-insecure-because-work-wasn’t-going-well-silly girl I actually I was am.
He taught me that it is ok to be me. So, of course I married him!
As a couple, when we make plans, he will ask about my friends. “Why don’t we ever see them?” Well, I didn’t keep my good friends for very long because I had never let anyone in enough to maintain them. I didn’t return phone calls, I didn’t make plans for coffee, meet people at the gym, go for a walk on a Sunday afternoon. Those things were way too personal for me. Someone might ask me “how are you?” and I might actually have to answer because my bullshit answer was going on too long.
I wasn’t isolated. I was in a routine. I made friends, we laughed, I would listen, console, give advice, I would drink, dance, tell jokes. I was the first person to say yes on a Saturday night, because, let's be real, no one talks about emotional well being at a bar dancing on the table. That was my jam.
Then, something happened. I found myself a grown adult, a wife, and a mother. And, I was having a really hard time. I was not okay and I desperately wanted to scream. I was going to burst. I was like a balloon ready to pop. So much emotion, so much anger, conflict, drama…. So, finally I did.
“Hi. How are you?” I am not ok! I am angry, I am sad, I am frustrated! I don’t actually know how I am, I can’t even define it. This is hard!
That felt amazing. Indescribable.
The more I talked the better I felt. I got reactions. I got offers of help. And the best one: “I went through something similar.”
Wait, what? Are you telling me that you actually went through this? You mean I am not living on an island? You can actually empathize instead of sympathize? You can understand?
How did I miss this my whole life? There were people who understood and people who thought it was ok to say “I’m not ok.” But please know, it wasn’t as if the heavens opened and suddenly I was an open book. It took time. Time to tell my story, find out who I was comfortable telling and most importantly who even cared. I was finding out who my real friends were, who really cared and who I really cared about. I made mistakes along the way. I gave away parts of my life and I received judgment in return. I lost people who I thought were real friends and found that they weren’t. That hurt sometimes, but the reward was invaluable. I was, at 43 years old, making friends for the very first time—real friends.
Honesty I felt light, free. I was talking about one of my most difficult periods in my life and I was ecstatic to be talking about it. I had no idea what I had been missing. And, what came next was a gift that I will never take for granted. FRIENDS. I found friends, real friends. Friends who listen and care, help. Friends who send little heart emojis to let me know they are thinking of me. Friends who don’t judge me, and make me feel better when I judge myself. Friends who help me find answers and handle crises. They tell me when I am justified and when I am being ridiculous and just straight out wrong. It is glorious. The heavens have opened and they are showing me the way.
As I sat one day on my back porch during COVID with one of my new found friends (who has become like family, who knew that could happen?!) I had a revelation (for some this will sound silly because, some people—some women—have known this all of their lives) what if all women could live this life? What if all women knew that they could find other women who would understand them? What if women learned at a young age the comfort of sharing their stories so that they might find others like them? To empathize with them? Imagine a world where we were able to tell others our raw, personal, intimate stories and find support? To be lifted up. Maybe the strength would come from an entire community of women or maybe one, just one, would understand. Maybe there would be a time when we would embrace our journeys, the good and the bad, and celebrate each and every moment. We wouldn’t feel embarrassed by the hard parts or shame for not being strong in a moment or we would not feel shame for mistakes we have made but instead stand up and be proud that we made them, learned from them and moved on.
One woman looks at another and says ”I get it.”
From this, what could be possible, seemed endless for me. We can share our stories about sexuality, abuse, religion, relationships, gender identity, motherhood, corporate America, menstruation, rape, philanthropy, anxiety, depression, mental health, raising children with special needs, raising children overall, sex, infertility, addiction. This messy, beautiful, hard, emotional life.
As I was sitting on my back porch during COVID thinking these thoughts, I wanted every woman to know that this is possible. I wanted every woman to know that we can support each other. We can talk, there doesn’t have to be judgment. We can find comfort in our vulnerability. With this, life is easier and it is definitely more enjoyable.
Needless to say my life changed dramatically after this realization. I am now surrounded by the most unbelievable women I have ever met. They get me, I get them and I have found my tribe. I feel endlessly grateful. But this is not the most important lesson I learned from this realization. The most important lesson I learned was to find comfort and acceptance of my vulnerability. To not be ok is ok and to say it out loud is to make yourself vulnerable to opinions, judgments and straight out scrutiny, but it too is ok. It is terrifying for me. To not be good and to say it out loud is just down right scary. But, it is also the truth. It is, at that moment, my reality. And I am human. I don’t know when this happened but somewhere in our culture it became not ok to be not ok. We look up to people who appear to have it all together. By all together I mean that they are thin, they have great jobs or careers while also juggling children, maybe they appear to have the perfect marriage or a close knit group of friends. These are the people we aspire to be. The ones who have it all together. But is this real? It can’t be. Because within our groups of friends or at family dinners we talk about those who don’t have it all together. We gossip about them. Maybe we even talk about them in a whisper. These people are living. These women, the one’s fighting cancer, trying to recover from trauma, raising children with special needs or are in loveless marriages, these are the real people. These are the people I want to know.
Social media shows us the strength of a woman who brags about her sobriety, as she rightly should. But why doesn’t she feel comfortable telling us and showing us the work and struggle that came before the happy ending? Her rock bottom. What if she needs me to tell her she can do it, she is going to be ok, she DOES have the strength. I want to know and I want to be there to tell her. She should not have to hide that part of her journey. I want to celebrate her every step, be her cheerleader, be her strength at her moment of weakness. She doesn’t need to fight her fight alone. If we could all just be honest about what life deals us and support each other, wouldn’t that make the journey just a little easier?
If I had known that there was another 32 year old woman who was unmarried and felt completely unwanted maybe I wouldn’t have been in my basement apartment on a Saturday night alone drinking a bottle of wine because I felt like a failure. Maybe, just maybe, I would have been able to look in the mirror and have seen a tribe of women behind me. Women who would say, “I get it, and it is going to be ok.”
So, here I am on the verge of 47 and I can say with confidence that I have never been happier. This occurred to me just three years ago. I am happy. Life isn’t perfect. Life is still life and it is hard, some days are better than others but overall I am able to look in the mirror and see someone who is in a good place. When I think hard about why this is the answer to the age old question, “are you happy?” I realize I am happy because of the people I have let into my life. Because my wall of steel came down and I was able to embrace my vulnerability I am happy. I am able to be in the hard times and say to myself, “this is hard, but it's ok because I have an amazing husband and a tribe of women behind me, in my corner, that support me. I am a flawed, but hard working woman in work in progress. But, because I accept myself as nothing less than fabulously imperfect...I am good.
We are a work in progress. We all are. And if we learn to embrace and even welcome in the difficult times to learn from them, if we act as good people and strive to be the best we can be with love and acceptance of our weaknesses, how can we go wrong? Authentically you. That never meant that much to me, but it does now. I recently read a quote by someone I admire, Brene Brown.
“ONE DAY YOU WILL TELL YOUR STORY OF HOW YOU OVERCAME WHAT YOU WENT THROUGH AND IT WILL BE SOMEONE ELSE'S SURVIVAL GUIDE.”
I am no longer ashamed of my struggles. I am no longer living in fear of showing my weaknesses, my trauma, my vulnerability. I am proud of it. Because I worked REALLY hard to get here, and if I can help just one, and I truly mean even just one other woman have an easier journey, travel an easier path than I did by expressing myself and living my life out loud, raw and bold, then this is my mission. Women are extraordinary. We just go, go and go. We do not have to go at it alone.
So... welcome to Living Crue. Pull up a chair, preferably pink but whatever works for you. Grab a water, a cocktail, a juice box, whatever you love. And please, join us. Join me. I hope you can and will find confidence to live your life raw and bold because you never know who you might help by doing so. You never know whose journey you might make a little lighter because you shared yours. And you never know who you will meet that will join you on your road. We should love and embrace our journey. It is ours and it is fabulous no matter what it entails.
Cheers,
Marci
P.S. You should check out Bridget’s story too.
