If I went about my days with a pocket-sized mirror dangling in front of my face, I’m betting I would reflect way more expressions than just a smile. Why? Because I don’t smile when I change poopie diapers… when I take out the trash… when I scrub toilets… when my husband and I disagree… when my younger sisters call me bossy… when I’m doing pushups, and squats, and crunches, and high-intensity-interval-training. I don’t smile when someone I love passes away… when I have to have a constructively confrontational conversation… when I have a massive headache… when I feel like a failure… when I’m keeled over the toilet with the stomach flu… when I get rear ended… when the bills arrive… when I find mice in my garage…
If at any point during these little happenings I were to glance in that mirror, I know for a fact I would see the reflection of a girl gagging with disgust… frustrated to tears… with eyes rolling in annoyance… panting with beads of sweat… crying with blood shot eyes… distraught with furrowed brows… pale with illness… screaming in exasperation… panicked with fear…
But these faces don’t make for very cute profile pictures now do they?
In the run of a day I deal with 10,000 mundane tasks where I feel like a chicken running around with my head chopped off, but the picture I post is of the 5 minutes I get to myself where my feet are up, the fireplace is blazing, my hot tea is steaming and all is right with the world.
In the run of a month, I deal with 10,000 fighting episodes, one billion temper tantrums, 57 trillion time-outs and more crap (literally) than my garbage bin can contain, but the pictures I post of my boys are of them hugging, laughing, smiling and trick-or-treating in the most ridiculously cutest of cuteness costumes.
In the run of a year, I deal with more tears, more heartache, more sleep deprivation and more confusion about life than I know how to handle, but all I see on Facebook are pictures of new homes, pimped out vehicles, boats, shoes, rings and makeup (assuming this is why there are whole albums of selfies?). And let us not forget about the vacations, the birthdays, the holidays, the ‘why not have a party’ celebrations, and the backyard bbq bashes.
Best foot forward, right?
Might I remind us all, however, of that wise ol’ saying: There are two sides to every story.
Every FACE smiles and cries.
Every BOOK has conflict and a happily every after.
We may see pictures of the houses, but let’s not forget about the debt.
We may see pictures of the weddings, but let’s not forget about the divorces.
We may see pictures of the babies, but let’s not forget about the births.
Harsh post? Perhaps. But I felt the need to write it for this reason:
To remind us all to stop pretending like the Facebook version of our lives is the real, better, or only version.
The imperfection of life IS what makes it perfect. The ebb and flow IS the beauty. The struggle IS what makes us stronger. The smiles, the tears, the good, the bad, the cute AND the crap are all equally important because you need both sides of the story to have a really great book. Besides…
A real friend loves at all times…