A year ago I had the metaphorical rug pulled out from under me. I confronted a lie and learned the truth. A reality that seemed so alien to me I couldn’t believe it, but I knew it couldn’t not be true. It was a horrible, devastating truth that broke my heart and left me reeling.
They say the truth will set you free. I call bullshit. The truth is a kick in the teeth. It’s what you do with the truth that determines your freedom from whatever shackles your lie locked you in.
Truth isn’t freeing. Truth has you believing that you will never put your complete trust in another human ever again. Not even your own mother. Turns out that’s utter nonsense and if your mother is anything like my Mummy Manda, you’ll lean on that woman more than you could ever imagine in the weeks that follow having removed that lie-ridden wool that was pulled over your eyes for six months.
Crying is certainly more cathartic than the truth. So is getting angry. And punching pillows. Just don’t go to town too hard on your decorative cushions or the stuffing will escape and that’s a hell of a mess to clean up. Although you can add it to the list of reasons why you despise the person who made you punch your pillow. You also now have a legitimate reason for retail therapy, so it’s not all bad.
Reaching milestones is absolutely better for confidence building after feeling insecure or unwanted or less than. The truth sits there loud, obnoxious and unfaltering. Realising you’ve gone a whole day without crying or checking your phone or obsessively looking at their social media accounts as if somehow those will give your answers that counter what you know to be true is a much stronger sign that you’ll get past your hurt.
And sitting on your boyfriend’s bed telling him the shit show that you thought would break you happened a whole year ago today only to hear him responding that “We should thank him” is 100% more freeing and affirming than any truth or version of it that was stuffed down your throat by those who didn’t care enough about you to matter anymore.
We’ve all been through something. We’ve all been hurt by those we considered closest to us. We’ve had things said that, no matter how many apologies or excuses we hear, we’ll never truly get over. We’ve all learned things about people we thought we knew that turned our opinions on their head. It’s how we deal with those moments after those truths that free us.
I’ve cried. I’ve stalked social media profiles. I’ve punched pillows. I’ve necked a bottle of prosecco naked because I was told it wasn’t socially acceptable to get drunk in my pjs (how’s that for logic). I even wrote letters that would never see an envelope or stamp. I’ve catharted all over the place. The truth has nothing to do with me rebuilding my confidence or ability to trust in people or have faith in myself that I was worthy of love. It was facing those insecurities and doubts and pushing through. It was surrounding myself with those who truly matter and leaving behind those who don’t.
So, no – the truth doesn’t set you free. It’s just the vessel that gets you to the place that you need to start rebuilding from. Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither will your faith be, but perseverance, tears and people who love you are a good place to start.
