My Motivations For Transparency and Why I Need Openness In My Life

For those who don’t know me personally, you wouldn’t know that I am as just open here as I am in person. And sometimes I wonder if I’m too open. I wonder if I’m making a mistake. Should I be embarrassed?

I wrestle with this. And maybe I am too open, but is that really a bad thing? I really couldn’t say. All I do know is my own experience and my own reasoning. Isn’t that true for all of us?

I suppose one of my motivations for transparency lies in my faith. Christians are called to speak out about their struggles so that fellow believers can help build one another up. To keep each other accountable. Because let’s face it, following any religion is hard and it’s unreasonable to do it alone.

And that’s a big motivator for me. Do I make mistakes? Do I sin? Do I represent Christ poorly? Yup, all the time. And I want to be held accountable for that. I want to know when I’ve messed up, so that I can fix it. So that I can apologize and clean up my mess, because I will make a mess of things. I’m human. That’s the grace of God, the confidence that I can screw up, apologize, and it’s forgiven, it’s forgotten. No matter how big or small, my mistakes are always redeemable. God’s offering, I might as well take it.

But outside of my faith, I have other reasons. Memories in my past of cruelty, prejudice, sexism, and hate. I have memories of good people, respectable people, turning on me in private. Tearing into me and spreading lies about me.

When your nightmares become a reality and hell becomes a place you frequent, it becomes hard to trust. Hard to believe. Hard to hope. And living in hell taught me that I wanted to be free. That I wanted to be more than my past. My past taught me that some of the kindest people we know are often the cruelest. My past taught me to look for lies. To look for deceit.

And so I live a transparent life. I speak candidly. I want you to call me out on my mistakes. Because I know monsters and I don’t want to become one. Living in secrecy, hiding who we truly are, breeds evil, and I desperately want to be good. To distance myself from my nightmares, look in the mirror, and see a whole, loving and kind woman. I am and will be more than my past.

My Failings As A Wife: Part One


Maybe I’m too sensitive. Or maybe I’m justified. I’m not sure if it really matters. Some days, some moments are more difficult than others. When I step back and look at my marriage I’m very happy. I’m loved, respected, and adored. But little things turn into big things and big things get heavier and heavier.

And I have moments where I throw my hands in the air, look him in the eyes, and say, “I’m done with this. I want out. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

I throw ultimatums at him, reach my breaking point, and in a rage, I storm out of the conversation. It’s not because I don’t love him. I’m not wanting to hurt him. It’s simple really, I am flawed and, at times, I am an imperfect wife.

I’ve walked. I’ve slammed the door and left. I’ve ignored his calls. Ignored his attempts at reconciliation. But even in my anger, I can’t burn through the love I do have for him.

I come back, my anger long gone, and I’m welcomed back with open arms. I feel embarrassed, foolish, and ashamed, but David loves me unconditionally, even when I’m an angry unlovable mess. He doesn’t hold my outbursts over my head, it’s forgiven and forgotten.

David is, more often than not, the calm eye in the center of my storming emotions. I feel everything strongly and, with him, I am my most authentic self. He has never once asked me to change or hide my feelings, even when I’m raging.

His patience encourages me to be better. Kinder. I can’t change my personality, but I can change my reactions. I can correct my flaws and be a better wife.

I am thankful that David gives me the time and encouragement I need to work on my patience, my snarky mouth, my emotional immaturity, and, most importantly, my foolishness.