I Don't Do Windows (Anymore)

I have been debating for a while now

just how long I have to wait before I can feel

happiness.

Again.

Not wondering about when I'll find happiness

or when I'll get to a place of happiness

or when I'll actually be happy...

but, wondering, debating and considering

how long it will be before I

allow myself

to feel happy.

Last year I went through a loss.

Not the same kind of a loss as I did when my mother died.

(That kind of loss was one which was placed in my life.

Placed in my life through the ending of her life,

and the continuing of mine without her.)

Last year,

I went through a loss that was

of my own choosing.

Mostly.

Almost.

Kind of.

At least, that is how it looks.

And while I didn't choose it alone,

it was a choice.

A decision.

An agreement to lose.

A final answer.

A breaking.

A losing.

A loss.

And,

because it was a loss by choice,

(a very public choice based on very private events),

it was a loss experienced because of a controversial choice,

a choice about which I made no grand statements,

issued no invitations for input,

offered no explanations

or answered any curious questioners...

I have dealt with my choice (and loss) mostly

in silence

on my own

at my pace

without many other voices

or ears

or arms.

And here I am.

The next year.

After the loss.

Many things have changed in the past year.

Many things about me have changed.

But many have stayed the same.

I am still a Pleaser

I am still a Worrier

I am still so overly aware of what I think people think

about me

about my life

about my children

about my everything

There is still something in me,

that lives my life in two ways.

I live my life on the inside....

knowing who I am

what I need

what I have known

what I am learning

what I long for

who I long to be

Who I long to please.

With struggles

issues

hopes

strengths

needs

loves

longings

aches

and

joys

and

I live this other life as well

(which I detest about myself),

which thinks about

dwells on

ruminates over

how I am perceived from outside.

I, long ago, placed myself in a fishbowl,

I bought
took up residence
set up my home
in a glass house
of my own fears
and insecurities

I live in this house and project that

everyone is standing beyond the walls,

with rocks in hand

sticks and stones

picks and hammers

ready to knock their way through

chip at my security

chisel away at the structure of my safety

Peck at, crack and shatter...

me

with their opinions

judgements

assessments

and

labels

In one breath, I can convince myself

that this is NOT the case...

that people, friends, even family

are not peering into my life with a set of eyes

wanting to see me fall or fail or be devastated for my choices,

while in the next moment

I know it kind of is the case.

I am not so naive as to think I am not being judged

and watched

by others.

So,

while I am sitting here

now

this year

in the moment

at this point...

I am moving forward

at a strong pace

with a sense of where I am going

with hope

and energy

and readiness for the rest of my days

But,

that life I live

in that glass house

of my own construction

is

holding

me

prisoner.

I am fresh out of Windex

I have exhausted my arms scrubbing away the smudges

I have hung curtains,

strategically placed the furniture

spruced up the landscaping

dimmed the lights

holed up on the inside, where I feel safe

to avoid the neighbors

the gawkers

the gossips

and people I have disappointed

or

who have been so disappointed in me.

I have stayed inside,

because of my fear of others

but.

today.

Today

I want the sunshine.

I want to open the windows and let the fresh air inside.

I want streams of light brightening the place

I want the warmth of the new day to fill my spaces.

I am well.

I am doing really well.

And I'm ready to let it be known.

I am loved by Him.

I am well.

I am living again

and not hiding it any more.

I am not hiding.

And

I am allowing myself

happiness.

I am allowing myself the freedom

to be happy

and the freedom to express it

regardless of the 

imaginary or actual

slingshots beyond my door

I have made another choice today

I am choosing

to cut a few holes in the glass

myself

I am carefully

etching my initials in the windows

tapping at a few spots with my own tools

letting a few slivers of glass fall to the ground

by my own hand.

Eventually, I'll chip away at enough

and let the whole thing collapse--

My Glass House:

my need for the approval of others

my anxieties about disappointing people

and fears of them not loving me anymore.

I'm not saying I'm ready (yet) to rent a wrecking ball,

but I am going to try singing the high notes 

and see if I can make this thing shatter
(or at least get the walls to shake)

No more hiding happiness.

And by the way,
I realize now
that my real question
hasn't been
"When will I allow myself to be happy again?"
My "Glass House of Fear" question has really been,
"When will other people approve of me being happy again?"
See how imprisoned I can be....?

It's time to tell the truth and bring the house down.