Kintsugi

Kintsugi: the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. When something has suffered damage and has a history, this joinery makes the piece more beautiful.

I am a broken mess almost once a month.

Generally, I appear as a strong, confident woman who has her life all figured out. I don’t like having my weaknesses known as they have brought me pain in the past. Sharing myself, my real self, has been a lesson in the harsh reality of human cruelty. I am so selective about the parts of myself and who I can trust with them and often, I am completely different parts of my personality with different people.

I had a small meltdown about a week or so ago, spending two full days not leaving my apartment. I tell myself to go out and do something, but what to do? I don’t need to spend money, I can’t go shopping and I don’t like this town and the traffic is so congested and the road construction on the interstate is a mess and what about the park? But what if there’s a bunch of people out and I don’t want to see anyone I work with in my comfy, but super tight leggings that show off my fat rolls just above my knee. What if I trip and fall and roll my ankle like that one time and…

This whirlwind of a mind trap is what happens to me all the time. I will start with a simple idea and in a split second, the world is ending. Worst of all, it happens at night when I’m trying to sleep. Lately, I’ll try to put myself on a beach I remember clearly in my head from a trip to Hawaii nearly 20 years ago only to have it spiral to thinking about the ex-fiance who was with me on the trip, to the next guy and the next guy and the next guy – all who broke me in some way. I’ll stress about being fat and single and wonder if it’s God’s punishment for all my mistakes. It only takes a few seconds to completely stress myself out and pick up a book to escape and find myself awake at 1 am when I should have been asleep at 10:30.

My mom saved me. She let me dump all my neurotic anxiety on her over the phone and just talking about it made all the difference, as it usually does. Talking to her helped me realize what the problem is: I’m aimless. I sold the house last year with the purpose of moving to South Korea for a year. Right now is the time I would be leaving if I’d stuck to that goal and it’s not happening.

Sometimes it takes being broken to become a new version of yourself; a version that’s even more beautiful than before.

As always,
Single Mormon Lady

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