A week prior to this picture, I asked my best friend why there were so many crying bloggers on the Internet.
I literally pondered why someone would take a selfie during their most vulnerable moment and share it with the world. Was it attention seeking? Was there nothing else to do while in pain than turn your camera to portrait mode?
Now it makes sense to me.
Turns out there’s no good photo to accompany hard news except an honest one.
This was me moments after learning I needed a hysterectomy. If there had been a camera handy, this would’ve been me the day my husband’s heart stopped, or my kids were diagnosed with autism, or when I survived abuse or miscarriage or any of my other blunders.
I’m embarrassed by how I look here but I’m not ashamed of how I feel.
It’s easier to post our “happy” instead of our hardships. We are a society of fast scrollers and sometimes people’s pain makes us squirm (or have to stop and examine our own).
But the truth is, silence has always made me sicker.
So here’s a photo of me at my worst, and arguably my most authentic best. It’s for every woman who has ever cried in a closet over betrayal or stillbirth or sexual assault or children with special needs. I’m heartbroken and sad here, but that’s okay because I know I’m not alone.
We’ve all looked like this at some point—hurting and helpless. I know this because there’s just no way to get through a broken world unbroken.
There will be pretty. There will be pain too.
And I think the only way to survive, is if we start showing our real selves (and selfies) to each other.