Honesty is her name

Tonight, I could hear my voice echo as it rang through the empty rooms of the house. I was dancing and singing as if no one was watching (because no one was). I sang "Girl on Fire" at the top of my lungs.

Happiness is only one word that could describe how I felt.

I was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

And in that moment, in this empty house, I felt joy.

"I'm so mad at myself", I told a friend on the phone the other day, "I've forgotten how to be alone."

I had learned, I had learned how to do it once upon a time. I had learned to find contentment in loneliness. Then, out of no where, I realized I had forgotten. I had neglected the art, the beauty in being alone.

I'm having more real conversation nowadays with friends. No more, "how are you? Good? Oh great! I did blah blah blah blah....." I love being real. I love when I ask a friend, "how are you doing?" And they say, "not good, not good at all."

Don't get me wrong, I hate they are having a bad day, but I love that they are being honest enough say that it's bad. Because truthfully, honesty doesn't wear pretty clothes. She doesn't always spend hours getting ready in the morning. Most of the time, she crawls out of bed, combs her hairs, puts her clothes on, and walks out the door. If you expect perfection, if you expect a clean cut, decked out, can't keep my eyes off the pound of makeup on your face show from honesty, then I'm afraid you'll be gravely disappointed when you see her.

She's so much more than that. She so much more than clothes or makeup. She carries truth, truth that makes your knees buckle because you know you can never go back to that person. Truth that makes your stomach turn in knots because you were hurt beyond anything you could have ever imagined. Truth, that makes tears fall so hard and so fast from your eyes, you begin to believe that you could actually create your own water fall.

Honesty, she's not what we expected her to bet.

But if you look at her, really look at her, a peace begins to wash over you. You stop noticing the wrinkles around her eyes, you stop seeing her curvature as something to be fixed but rather something to be praised. Her plain shirt doesn't seem so plain any more. You begin to see her for who she is and out of no where, her beauty strikes you so hard and so fast you realize your mouth has been wide open for a good 15 minutes.

Honesty, I'm slowly coming to know her and accept her for who she is. I don't always like the truth she brings me, but with each piece of truth, I find myself coming together. I find myself feeling whole again.

Tonight, I danced and sang alone, in an empty house and felt joy. Tonight I cooked chicken alone and felt joy.

Honesty, when we accept her for who she is, we eventually get to know her best friend, joy. Because the truth is, you can't have one without the other.