Prelude to TheyCallHerCook.
Well it’s finally happened, this attempted mess at creating a space relatable to what all woman are coming from, going through, or wallowing in. The peaks and valleys, highs and lows, the light and darkness. LIFE.
WARNING. CURSING. ITS OK YOU WONT DIE IF YOU READ IT. PROMISE.
The final straw was today. Today, my best friend and I, (We’ll call her A. — oOoOohhh pretty little liar vibes…) were bitching about life together. We both deem it a shit show right now. Kids, family, jobs, education, shit breaking, people breaking, all. the. things.
The convo went like this, kinda:
Her: I’m fat as shit and I’m breaking out.
Me: ME TOO. I’m drinking too much soda.
Her: I really should work out.
Me: WELL I LOOK AT MY WORK AND THEN MY HOUSE AND THEN I’M LIKE I HAVE TOO MUCH OF THIS SHIT TO DO TO GO TO THE GYM.
And then she answered: Same.
Same. That hit me. I felt like the only person fighting this list of priorities that is never settled. I literally feel like the only woman in the world who doesn’t have her shit together. Lisa (Lisa is fake name, true persona.) posts all the pictures of her kids nice and clean, pinterest hair styles, brags about how she made a seven course meal last night and her husband LOVES THE FUCK out of her for it. I’m suppressed by that shit. Social media does that to us.
I’ve recently been reading ‘The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck’ (You can purchase HERE: https://amzn.to/2xk6Kzi ) and in the first few paragraphs, what I had been feeling had been put into words for me. It explained how while we all see everyone working towards their goals on social media, rarely does anyone post their failures. It creates this negative reaction because when YOU fuck up, YOU never see Lisa on social media fuck up. She hides is away. Just. Like. You.
We all sit in these dark puddles of harsh words, negative feelings, and failure. It’s this unwashable muck that stains you. You used to be bright, shining, full of hope and adulthood wiped it’s ‘muck’ on you and stained you. It made you feel dull and imperfect.
I want to change that. Remember that saying we all love to post after a bad break up — ‘If you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best.’ Except we all try to hide the worst. But what if we were brave enough to share it all. Relate. Look at each other and say ‘Hey lady, I did that same dumb shit the other day. I get it. Let me share my story with you.’ It’s something to ponder. But it’s also something that will be happening. Right here.