Not all wounds are visible; not all scars are known. I have a friend who has spent the last year going through the nightmare of cancer. She has shared the ugliness of hair loss, chemotherapy, nausea, surgery, and all that goes with it openly on her social media pages. I haven’t had cancer, but I can see her pain. I have watched her struggle from afar, and I would not trade places with her. I have seen her friends and family rally around her and offer her support, meals, flowers, encouragement, rides and many other kinds of love during her valiant, courageous fight. I applaud the support she has been given. It is as it should be. She will carry the physical scars of her disease with her for the rest of her life as a constant reminder of her pain. No doubt about it-physical scars of cancer of the human body are ugly, relentless, unforgiving and brutal as are wounds of the human soul. The only difference is that some scars are seen while others are buried into remission so deeply that they have become invisible.
What about the lonely, forgotten survivors of our society whose stories never get told? What about those fighting mental illness, those afraid to leave their homes, those struggling with the racing thoughts of OCD or PTSD, the betrayed, the lonely, the anxious, the abused, the addicted, the fearful, the victimized souls who travel their wounded paths alone? What about the things we can’t talk about: panic attacks, same sex attraction, depression, eating disorders, social anxiety, cutting, addictions, suicidal thoughts?
What about the unheard stories? What about the incisions of the soul that never quite heal? I don’t know what sound a falling tree makes if no one is in the forest to hear it, but I do know that the suppressed, silent tears that fall in the middle of the night are just as real when no one is around to see them.
What if we all could just agree to take off the non-COVID masks that we wear and just get real with one another? What if we were able to forget about appearances and talk about how we really feel without the socially acceptable pretenses clouding the lens? What if we could at last let our guards down, throw away the labels and stop the exhausting dance of “pretending” that we have gotten so good at? Perhaps we could at last see one another as we really are, see each other’s damaged souls in a new light. Maybe we at last could see beyond the profile pictures and the socially acceptable media posts and admit how starved we all are for actual human interaction.
What if we were able to see all of the invisible scars and bruises and ugliness and simply accept each other? What if we allowed each other to be as open and vulnerable and honest about our emotional trauma as we are when sharing stories of physical illness and diease? What if we removed the shame and the pretend images of perfection and could openly share our flaws and fears? What if we were honest about the fragility of our emotional health, our relationships and our marriages? What if we talked about our disappointments and about our feelings of isolation and loneliness during the holidays? What if we once and for all recognized and addressed our emotional hunger? What if we were truly able to reach out with love and support without judgment or diagnosis? Perhaps we would realize once and for all how imperfect, vulnerable, insecure and alike we truly are.
This is for those out there who are carrying invisible wounds that you don’t share. This is for those who feel lost and forgotten in this supposedly social, yet isolated, awkward world that we are all navigating. This is for those mourning and grieving losses that no one even knows about. This is for all of us. Until the day comes when it is okay to talk about the scars that no one sees, I want you to know that I see you. I may not know your story, but I know you are hurting and that you desperately want to talk about it. The truth is that although we live in an ultra competitive world, there really is no competition. You are enough! I don’t pretend to have the answers, but I know that you are loved and needed and are simply doing the very best you can on your journey today. I am glad you are here. Please find the courage to reach out for help. I see you, and I pray for you. Some wounds are not visible; not all scars are known, but please know that you are not alone. 