Sometimes I wonder if I share too much.
Sometimes I wonder more when people ask, “Do you ever think you share too much?”
There is nothing easy about writing my life onto the page. You can pretty much count on the fact that every time I hit publish or submit, I do it with my eyes squeezed closed, face screwed up and shoulders aligned with my ears in some kind of god-help-me cringe position.
But I don’t think it’s as hard for me as it is for people I know, people I meet in the street, people I stop and talk to in my day. The ones who know me intimately and yet don’t really know me at all. Who aren’t sure what to say, who glance in the other direction, who offer an awkward smile between stilted silences.
It can be hard to feel balanced in relationships – I can hardly ask another person to bring their most personal diary entries to coffee to make things a little more square between us, even though most people I have coffee with have pretty much read mine.
Yes, it can be hard at times. So hard. However, I continue to share.
I share too much of myself because that’s how I feel best able to love. To take the broken pieces of myself and offer them to another person – here, here is my humanity, it’s messy and flawed and imperfect and damaged, but it’s real and honest and the best I have at this point. Some people will turn away from that. While others will take my offering and offer their broken selves back to me. And from that comes connection and relationship; two broken pieces put together to help make one another a little more complete.
I share too much of myself because my core belief rests in love, in the way humans can heal one another through the courage to love. But love isn’t always warm and delightful and perfect. Sometimes love is broken, tough, painful, exhausting, vulnerable. It’s your heart being ripped out and stomped all over, only for you to go back and do it all again the next day, because you refuse to give up your belief in love. It’s uncomfortable and difficult and will test your character and perseverance and ability to withstand the toughest circumstances.
But even when love is hard, even when I want to quit, even when it hurts and when I get hurt, I still choose it. I still choose to come back to the page because I still choose to believe in love.
I share too much of myself because I don’t believe, in a world so rife with pain, there can ever be too much.
So here, here is my humanity.
It may be too much for you. It may make you turn away, and that’s okay. I offer it anyway, because I choose to believe in the power of too much.
But it may also be enough for you to be able to offer your broken self back to me.
And that’s when too much becomes not only enough, but exactly how much we need.
Photo courtesy Boram Kim via unsplash.com