Hiding

"Women are beautiful, every single one of us. It is one of the glorious ways that we bear the image of God. But few of us believe we are beautiful, and fewer still are comfortable with it. We either think we don't have any beauty or if we do, that it's dangerous and bad. So we hide our beauty behind [things like] extra weight and layers of unnecessary makeup. Or we neutralize our beauty by putting up protective, defensive walls that warn others to keep their distance" (74).

"So many [women learn] something like this. Hide you vulnerability. Hide your heart. You aren't safe" (66).

(Quotes taken from: Eldredge, John & Stasi. Captivating. Nashville, Tennessee: Nelson Books, 2005.)

I wish I could be more like Ryan. He's always been so open in his love for me, so unafraid to bare his heart for me. He effortlessly shares his talents with me, he's completely himself around me, and he's not afraid of embarrassing himself in front of me. He trusts me.

I'm not so vulnerable. I wish I was, but I'm not. Even though I'm married and some would think that would magically make me 100% open with him, I'm not. I still put a guard up -- a wall -- between my heart and his. I'll allow him to give, give, give of himself, but I don't give much back. I tell him I love him numerous times throughout the day, and I do little things to show him I love him, like putting away the dishes, making our bed, doing the laundry, and going to dirt-track races with him, but I know it's not enough.

There are still parts of me that hide themselves from Ryan - beautiful, vibrant parts. These are the parts that were made to shine, that were made to be shared, and yet I hide them. These are the kind of parts, that if I showed them to him, he would really know that I loved him, because they aren't easy parts to share.

For example, I love to sing. I always have. People have encouraged me for it, and they've told me they've been blessed by my singing. And yet I withhold that blessing from Ryan. I withhold that part of my heart, that gift. I'll sing loud as heck when I'm driving to school or alone in the apartment, and I'll sing along with the worship team at church without blinking twice, but I won't sing for Ryan. Like I said, I love singing, and I don't think there's anything I'd rather do with my life than to bring glory to God with my voice, but I won't sing for Ryan. I'll sing in front of my family, I'll sing in front of my friends, and I'll even sing in front of strangers, but I won't sing in front of Ryan.

What a slap in the face.

I wish I could give more freely of myself and my heart to Ryan, but for some reason, it's so difficult. I wish I could come home and unashamedly share my writings from the day with him, I wish I could let down my guard and slow dance with him in the living room whenever he invites me to, and I wish I could take more risks with my tense, tense heart with him, but something seems to be holding me back.

I think it's fear. Fear of being laughed at, fear of being told I'm not all I was cracked up to be, fear of being rejected, fear of being hurt.

I think a lot of women struggle with this. One of my friends has been with her boyfriend for almost a year now, and she still has a heck of a time sharing her awesome sense of humor with him. She hides it. I've also got a friend who's recently gotten married and who admits to the fact that she's still struggling with completely being herself with her husband.

So I guess many of us hide, but I don't want to anymore. I see the way Ryan's so open in his love for me - the way he jumps into this relationship with both feet, and then I look at my own tight-fisted heart, and the disparity between the two just kills me.

I don't know how long it's gonna take or how hard it's gonna be, but I thinks it's time for a change. It's time for a more balanced give-and-take.

I wanna let my guard down.