Sometimes I scroll through social media and feel empty and alone. Everyone posts things (myself included, especially myself) that scream “my life is full” and not in the good way, but the way that says “my life is too put together for you, you don’t fit into my color pallet. I do not have room.” Van Gogh thought that yellow was the color of happiness, but it was poison. I do not have a filter that takes out all the blue hues. I would like to apologize if I have ever made you feel alone. I would like to apologize for all of the times I could have made you feel less alone and I did not.
I talk about vulnerability like I have it figured out, like I have achieved it. When in reality, I compose and carefully curate my life. I crop out as much of the blue as possible, and when I can not, I talk about the blues in past tense. Only victories. Only things that make me look better. I crop out everything too dark or too broken. Everything too honest or too real conveniently falls out of frame or out of focus.
I would like to apologize if i have ever made your wild roller coaster life feel abnormal. If I have ever painted the picture that my life is, or that life should be, all up-hill. Life is wonderful, truly glory to glory, but that does not change that some mornings I have to prove to myself that I actually exist. Sometimes I binge eat goldfish crackers and grilled cheese. I often try to drown anything sad in tomato soup. Some days I don’t make it out of bed. I have headaches that make me want to die. At any given moment I have at least one roll of film undeveloped to give me something to look forward to if all else fails. I fill my house with plants because I need something to need me. Because I believe that green is the color of happiness.
Here is to a less filtered life. Here is to real vulnerability.