Are you Wearing Make-Up to Bed???

Not really. I rarely start with a serious question both in writing and in person. I am Canadian you know. But in the 1950’s it was common practice for women to wear make-up to bed. So their husbands would not fully see their flaws, scars and blemishes. Always to keep up the best appearance to receive affection and praise.

While this is practically unheard of today, in my practice I have been seeing a pattern of this figuratively playing out. I too, am just as guilty of “covering up” from the man who pledged to protect me until death do us part. RDO.

Being open about my past twists and turns is a part of my ‘thing” because I know scientifically, what bonds us in commonality eases all of our suffering . So I share bits and pieces of my struggles to attain peace, and full acceptance of being deserving of love.

Meditation ( kicking and screaming against the silly idea) is what began the process of unravelling my misinformed and painful mindsets. It allowed me the courage to challenge these beliefs with actions that have resulted in a whole new way of being with others ,and myself in the world.

So back to part of my story. I believed I gained, and was worthy of love, by perfection, high achievement , doing, doing, doing for others ,and finally never burdening someone with my very messy emotions. End result was, as you can guess it , an over performing ,worrying, anxious, mountains out of molehill kind of gal. Fun huh??Outwardly having it all. Don’t get me wrong , my life was not without immense love and gratitude in family. It just was hard to sit and appreciate it, or to not feel as though underneath it all, love was conditional. In my mind, insecure love. I compare it to treading water for decades. Exhaustion permeating your bones ,but not giving up as going under was not an option.

My husband of course noticed my… let’s say oddities. Difficulties fully relaxing. Always busy with not just my physical being, but relentlessly in my mind. Rarely just breathing or being .
I of course shared a lot of emotions with him, but not my ugliest. I naively believed I kept it all hidden. The worry monkey clearly on my shoulder to anyone who paid any attention. I regret the disservice I did to him not trusting in the depth of his love and compassion. Foolish knows better now.

So as I meditated huge thought shifts occurred. Then “the day” happened. One day in Sams Club, specifically in the chicken aisle, I asked him”Why do you believe people should love you?” He of course in his flannel jacket and sweats, looked puzzled and said casually “because I love them.” I stated” It is that simple for you huh?” and told him right then and there that for me it felt as if it was because of what I do for people ,not who I am and sobbed. Like uncontrollably, leave without the chicken or the much needed toilet paper sobbed.

When we got home I told him some very ancient stories. He said his heart ached for me and he could not imagine feeling that way for a minute.That day was one of the many pivotal points in my life and many just as, if not more, difficult followed. I am not saying everyone accepted the less doing for love me.

But I encourage you ladies to consider this story and how it just may apply in your life. With your partner or spouse. When you find yourself complaining about the mundane, nonsensical, because really you are afraid or suffering seemingly alone while surrounded by people. If you have found yourself someone good, decent and kind, I guarantee they want to help. I can only speak for myself and the ladies who I have seen do so.

It is amazing on the other side. Because being loved for all your scars and uglies, your bare open face….It is a freeing, pure, safe, someone helping you float by taking your hand and keeping you above the water, Love like no other.

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