\u201cEight, nine, ten \u2026 ready or not here I come!\u201d<\/p>\n
Giggles unmistakably coming from behind the curtains. Doing my best to play along, I feign a search throughout the living room making my way toward the window. Unable to control their delight any longer, they burst out from their hiding spot with squeals of pride and joy and we collided on the floor in an all-out belly laugh. If only hiding as an adult were as innocent as this childhood game.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m guilty of hiding behind my own curtains; afraid of people seeing the real me, afraid of their rejection and disapproval. Wounded and exhausted, I hid from my own needs, determined to not need acceptance, companionship, genuine connection.\u00a0I didn\u2019t need to feel valued or worthy, I\u2019d much rather hide in my own self-sufficiency and perfection.<\/p>\n
But as I\u2019d soon come to find out, there\u2019s a dark and deadly side to those walls of isolation.<\/p>\n
I was pregnant with our third child and had been through some pretty hurtful relationships, some abusive and others just plain toxic. Broken and bruised I retreated, but as all pregnant mommas know, we need extra hands sometimes. But the risk of reaching out for help only highlighted the things that terrified me. So I put up walls of perfection. \u201cSuck it up, Buttercup\u201d was my motto and \u201cI got this\u201d was my game.<\/p>\n
When it came time to deliver, I walked into that hospital armed with my day planner, itineraries and contact lists.\u00a0I had stocked my freezer with food.\u00a0My nursery was prepped and I\u2019d even arranged toys and entertainment for my other two munchkins. Everything was color coordinated and slotted with activities and to-do\u2019s. Every step was planned, every vulnerability shut down and silenced. I was prepared to not need.<\/p>\n
But I wasn\u2019t prepared for her.<\/p>\n
Less than 12 hours after checking into the hospital, my life was in jeopardy.\u00a0My feet were numb, my head was dizzy, my eyes blurry and I had absolutely no control over anything. I had developed a severe form of preeclampsia and was hemorrhaging, loosing over 75 percent of my blood supply in less than 40 minutes. Doctors and nurses swarmed everywhere. My blood type, weight, name and age were shouted across the room over and over again.\u00a0My room number was broadcast to the entire hospital and everyone was invited to join (and I do mean everyone). From random surgeons and ER interns, to janitors and the chaplain, this girl who didn\u2019t want to need anyone, suddenly found herself surrounded by everyone.<\/p>\n
But she was different.<\/p>\n
She was gentle, steady and she wasn\u2019t searching for anything.\u00a0She just was. She simply slipped her hand in mine and didn\u2019t let go. I didn\u2019t know her; only knew her first name and her deep blue eyes. Her gaze calm and steady. The room stood still for a moment while I allowed myself to notice.<\/p>\n
I needed her.<\/p>\n
As she stood there with no other purpose than to hold my hand, I realized she also held my vulnerabilities \u2013 the emotional ones I was ignoring.\u00a0She watched me lose all control and helplessly disrupt an entire hospital with my needs.\u00a0I was fully exposed, fully vulnerable and yet, she held on, never once turning away.<\/p>\n
It was unfamiliar to be that out of control, that exposed and yet feel so \u2026 connected.\u00a0I was afraid and she stayed close. I couldn\u2019t be polite or put together and she lovingly touched my arm. In the midst of all my need, she met me with the simple comfort of connection. I not only felt my feelings, I faced them.<\/p>\n
Walls of perfection and self-sufficiency don\u2019t protect, they stifle. There in that isolation from community, we numb ourselves to our own fears and our needs, even to our dreams. Sure, being vulnerable is risky. We all have stories of sharing a piece of our heart or experience with others only to have them reject us, leaving us bruised and broken. But we can’t guard ourselves from the risks of vulnerability without also keeping ourselves distant from connection.<\/p>\n
The doctors patched me up and a generous donor replenished what I\u2019d lost, but it was the nurse\u2019s simple gesture in the midst of crisis that uncovered a healing balm I most desperately needed.<\/p>\n
I needed connection.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t want to be found that day, but the nurse with the blue eyes peaked behind my iron curtain and saw me. She touched my hand in the midst of my fearful mess and said, \u201cI see you. You are visible and I\u2019m not letting go.\u201d There I found the will to live, the will to keep dreaming and the hope for tomorrow.<\/p>\n
We were made for community, built to thrive in the whole place of authenticity. There in those places of honesty, both with ourselves and with others, we find strength and hope. Community pours life into our dreams, helps to silence the fears that seem unbearable and reminds us just how real we are. The game of hiding is over \u2013 let\u2019s all be free.<\/p>\n
Alle, alle, auch sind frei (German for \u201call, all, are also free\u201d).<\/p>\n