If It Ain’t Broke…Oh! And a Reminder That You Are a Masterpiece
"I just want to be fixed."
I stood in the window, the icy cold air cutting into my skin, but I breathed it in like water for my parched soul.
I felt trapped. I wanted to run. No where felt safe in the unfamiliar city with its unfamiliar weather and unfamiliar language, culture, customs, and food.
No one, no where felt like home, and I felt stuck, paralyzed with fear. There were too many unknowns, too little control, nothing to hold on to or to keep me anchored. And we were too far away from the love and protection of family and long-time friends for them to be of any comfort, and I didn't want to worry them anyway.
Moving to Czechia was something we so badly wanted, and yet here I was, miserable, and I was surely making my husband miserable right along with me.
Why couldn’t I just be happy? We were living our dream!
And I stood there thinking something was deeply wrong with me and that I was broken.
When Robbie had come home earlier that night, he had found me crying uncontrollably. I don't think I've ever cried that hard, not before or since.
I'd just gotten a phone call from my first client…I would be teaching English at a preschool. I would need to travel by bus to a small village that I'd never been to before with someone I had never met before in person. We struggled to communicate during the short phone call--neither one of us able to understand the other.
I'm convinced that not being able to communicate clearly with the people around you is one of the most terrifying things a human can experience whether you are speaking the same language or not.
I began crying while on the phone, and all I could do was hope that she wouldn't notice, although my voice was obviously shaky.
As soon as we ended the call, hot tears flooded my eyes. I was sobbing within seconds. And I couldn't stop.
When Robbie came in the door and saw me like that, saying he was concerned would be an understatement.
I told him that I just needed some fresh air but it was too cold to go for a walk so I asked if he'd help me stand in the window.
Our flat had these massively tall ceilings and so the windows were also massively tall with no screens so when we opened up the window, I was able to stand on the ledge.
I felt crazy, but my husband and best friend didn't ask questions; he opened the window and gently and lovingly held me so I wouldn't fall.
I wasn't trying to hurt myself although I can't say it didn't cross my mind a time or two during this particular season of my life.
I felt trapped by our decision to live and work abroad, and I needed to feel, for a moment, like I could do whatever I wanted without fear of disappointing anyone. I needed to feel some sense of control, some sense of freedom because I did not feel those things in any capacity in that moment.
And so, I stood in that window, and I took a few deep, calming breaths. Something about the outside, cold air cleansed my brain and my senses, all the way down to my soul. I stayed there for a long while, thinking.
view from the window of our flat
I still don't have a great explanation for why I felt compelled to do that which added to my feeling that something was deeply wrong with me.
I wish I could say that this was the only time that something like this happened, but it was not. That moment of escape I had found in the window had to end eventually, and so I found my footing with Robbie's help on the much safer floor of our little flat with its very yellow walls--back to life, back to the reality that I was still struggling.
I still wasn't fixed.
I was still broken.
I would begin to feel better for a few days and then, bam, just like that, I would be in an anxiety-induced episode completely unable to cope.
Everything felt wrong inside me. Every conflict, no matter how small, felt like another piece of evidence that was quickly stacking against me.
I'd felt anxiety before, I'd felt insecurity before, but never like this.
My mind was trapped in a vicious shame cycle, an invisible panel of judges in my head touted advice that I had, at some point in time, picked up and taken in as Absolute Truth.
"There must be some deep sin you haven't dealt with."
"You need to read your Bible more."
"If you had prayed more, this wouldn't be happening."
"What kind of Christian are you? Good Christians don't deal with this type of thing, and you're supposed to be a missionary?!"
It was all my fault. I just knew it.
I was disappointing everyone including myself and making the person I loved the most miserable.
But when Robbie heard me say, "I just want to be fixed," he looked at me with tenderness. Although I could not look him in the eyes myself just then, he looked into mine and said four simple words that felt like a healing balm applied directly to the parts of me that needed it most.
"You are not broken."
I was so stunned I couldn't speak.
The tears returned but for a different reason.
What did he mean I wasn't broken?
Didn't he see me and hear me? How could he honestly believe that?
I could feel a battle raging inside me. I had never heard that phrase spoken aloud in my entire life. I had heard the opposite more times than I cared (or care) to count.
I couldn't believe what he had said although so much of me wanted to. My brain was searching for evidence to disprove it, and yet it resonated so deeply within my whole body and soul that I knew it was the truest of truths.
I'd been taught for most of my life that we are all broken, and too much of the language used in my religious tradition is centered around just how broken and evil we are as humans, and yet the same text we use to prove this evilness and brokenness starts off by saying how good we are, created by a Divine Creator who loves us and called us good after making us.
And so when those words were spoken to me, “You are not broken,” I allowed myself for one of the first times in my entire life to question what I had always been taught. Starting with this:
What if I’m not broken?
What if we aren't broken?
What if we're simply human?
What if the parts of us that we think are broken are actually part of what make us beautiful? What if they are important parts of the masterpiece in progress that is each human life?
Broken implies that a thing or a person is of no value, not worthy of love, useless, trash.
Broken implies that a person is in need of "fixing."
But what if everything that I am, even the parts that I see (or others see) as imperfect, are meant to be there?
Or maybe they're not meant to be there, but they are and maybe they can't be fixed, but what if they could still become part of the rich, beautiful tapestry being woven throughout our lives?
Some threads in that masterpiece-in-progress may seem like mistakes; perhaps the colors are not ones that we would have chosen or perhaps the strands were woven in a seemingly chaotic pattern that doesn’t make any sense to us and doesn’t seem to be measuring up to our idealistic list of expectations about what life should look like.
But when that tapestry is complete, what if we could look back and see that those parts we thought were broken or out of place actually make our lives more beautiful?
Isn't that what gives something character and shape--not how perfect each individual piece is, but how all the parts together make a beautiful whole?
And if we try to "fix it,” if we cut away those strings that we think are broken parts of us instead of embracing them and letting them become part of all that we are…we end up with holes. We unravel. We lose who we truly are, and so we are never whole.
Something else I was taught in my faith tradition is that we are desperately in need of redemption because of our brokenness and faultiness as humans.
And perhaps we are in need of redemption…
But what if that means something more than what we've always understood it to mean.
I thought for a long time redemption meant that all those pieces of us that are broken are fixed or replaced or cut away.
But what if instead redemption requires the embracing and reconciling of who we were, who we are, and who we want to be?
What if it isn't about striving and working towards being "fixed?"
What if redemption is learning to love every part of ourselves even the parts that aren't perfect--the parts that are human?
What if we could learn to love the humanity in ourselves?
What if this is how we can learn to truly love others, by loving their humanity?
And what if this is how we can learn to let ourselves be loved in return?
After all, what's the most healing force on the planet?
We all know it's love!
And even love has parts that are painful, yet it is still undeniably beautiful.
Just like you.
Yes, you.
You are a masterpiece in process.
And you are not broken; you are human.
We are not broken humans; we're simply human.
And so may we learn to love and embrace every piece, broken or whole, that make up the fabric of who we are.
We are not broken. We are beautiful and beloved.
Acknowledgements (not something I typically do, but this isn’t a typical blog post either):
As I wrote this, I realized the pivotal role that my husband played in this story. Thank you, Robbie. You are wise and loving and you've taught me more than you know about how to love myself and others and to allow myself to be loved by others.
I also want to add that I began seeing a therapist, for the first time in my life, during this period. You don't have to go through things like this alone. Please reach out to someone if you need help, even if it's a friend that you don't want to worry with your problems. They care. That's why they worry. They'd want to know. I know that now, and I wish I would have reached out sooner.
So please reach out to someone. Your life is too beautiful and important…You are not broken.
I usually end my posts with a “call to action” asking you to go follow me on Instagram or sign up for my newsletter, but instead, I’m giving you a brief list of resources in case you or someone you know needs to talk to someone immediately:
If you live in the United States, you can simply dial 988. You can also check out this website.
Here are some resources that seem to provide help no matter where you live or at least in more places:
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/suicide/suicide-prevention-hotlines-resources-worldwide
https://www.thetrevorproject.org/
https://findahelpline.com/i/iasp
Please reach out for help. You are worthy of living. You are worthy of life.
