Lately, I find that I spend a lot of time perusing over Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest and other blogs. I’d rather spend an hour catching up with friends and family online than watch an hour of TV. Life is so much prettier with filters applied. Right?
I find myself wondering how everything and everyone became so perfect. Of course I know most everyone uses filters and cropping apps on everything, but at a glance it seems as though we’re all living impeccably well. It didn’t bother me until recently, because I’ve been grieving, because I’ve been struggling. I didn’t realize how much effort it was to keep up the façade.
I celebrated my birthday this past weekend with a few friends. Apprehensive as I was that I’d be the downer, I’m so glad that I chose to go. It’s been easier to hide these last few months. I’ve done the bare minimum, as far as social commitments are considered. Tears have fallen so easily lately that I was fearful that I’d lose my smile two glasses of Cabernet into the weekend. The amount of wine I consumed was pretty amazing, and it was all really good wine. Somehow, the tears stayed at bay. My happiness peaked through. I laughed a lot. My friends get me.
It rained all weekend. I forgot my rain boots and it didn’t matter. I spent 90% of the weekend inside. I still had a beautiful view of the lake and I had a fat book stack. My sister provided a mixed case of red wine and I had lots of cheese!
Saturday night we cooked together. We squeezed into the kitchen and laughed and cooked and kept our goblets filled. Normally I try to just show the finished, perfect product, like this table my sister set for us:
and the way we cooked together and made a mess, unlike the following picture of it already prepped in the dish.
and this kale that’s already been cleaned and dressed for the oven to bake.
even the way I try to crop pictures, to highlight the wine and flowers like this
But it’s not like that. Life’s just not like that. It’s messy. It’s fun. It’s hard. There are fires in the kitchen. There are expensive, perfectly cooked filets that I drop on the floor that the dog eats. There are messy potato skins on the counter with used, plastic wrap. My hair is usually in a pony tail while I wear my inexpensive, “reader” glasses. But that’s not what you always see. I do appreciate that the perfection I see has pushed me to think more about the content of what I show and that’s not such a bad thing. It’s pushed me to be better in some ways. I’m not sad about that. I also realize that in order for me to live a more authentic life, I need to reveal more of my imperfect life.