By Jessica Johnston
It’s tempting to pretend that there aren’t ritz crackers hidden deep inside my shag carpet, along with some other things I probably don’t want to know about. It’s tempting to pretend my four-year-old doesn’t rock the same “favorite” dress three days in a row, and that I don’t currently smell like men’s Old Spice deodorant. Sometimes I’d rather my life looked like a Instagram feed of awesome. I’d also rather my butt looked like a bubble instead of a wide pancake, but we all have to live our truth.
The thing I’ve noticed is that when I don’t pretend, I find my people (the ones who don’t pretend either), and to me that reward is everything. Literally everything.
So to the women, the moms, the people, who don’t pretend…
Thank you for your bravery.
There is no one more beautiful to me than you.
Sometimes I’d rather my life looked like a Instagram feed of awesome. I’d also rather my butt looked like a bubble instead of a wide pancake, but we all have to live our truth.
There’s no one more beautiful to me than my friend with a messy bun on top of her head, a kitchen sink overflowing with dishes, a screaming baby on her hip, and a struggle she’s in the middle of.
There’s no one more beautiful to me than my friend who walked through a terrible miscarriage open and vulnerably, and is now holding her rainbow baby in her arms.
The reality is that life is raw and unpredictable.
There’s no one more perfect to me than the ones who walk bravely in their imperfection.
There’s no house I’d rather be in than the one where real people live. The ones where there are messes, dirty laundry, true stories, laughter, and tears. I will take my friends with all of it, and a glass of wine on the side.
There’s no greater gift than to be invited into another person’s truth.