I have all kinds of mom friends.
Next week I’m having coffee with my foyer friends. I call them my foyer friends because they stay in the nice and neat tidy foyer of my life and never move beyond the front room of my heart. I believe I am very welcoming and open, so they are certainly welcome to come inside my life further, but they are hesitant, or perhaps just have guarded personalities. Perhaps opening up is hard and they feel safe staying in the foyer.
I wonder sometimes if we stay in the foyer discussing safe topics because they are concerned we might disagree if we began talking about deeper things in life. Or, maybe I’m just the only one who really enjoys knowing how you like your cornbread (because that matters!), your family history, your deep, dark secrets. I also enjoy a good politics and faith session. But that’s just my personality – honest and open. I realize others aren’t always that way, so I’m happy to stay in the foyer and chat all day long.
I have other friends who are dining room friends. Our relationship is a formal dinner party where we engage in some personal conversations, lightly touch some fringe topics, and clink glasses at the happy toasts.
Living room friends are special. They will lounge with you on the couch – both metaphorically and realistically – ignoring both the mess in the room and the way you look in your pj’s. They are great for being comfortable. They will be comfortable with you in a crowd, in a messy living room, in your messy life. They are good friends.
But closet friends… they are rare. They are best friends. They know what’s hidden in the closet of your life. They are the ones you call to ask what you do about fleas in the playroom. They are the ones you ask if it’s o.k. to use dry shampoo on your toddler’s head for picture day because you can’t remember the last time she took a bath. These aren’t things you confess to everyone. These are the things you save for your closet friends. They know too much. They can’t unsee the mess. They are forever bound to me because of it.
My closet friends know the highs and lows of my marriage, my parenting, and my faith. They know personal details about my family history, my body functions, and my broken dreams.
Closet friends don’t judge me for whatever I have to say about politics or faith. They love me when I’m right, when I think I’m right, and when I’m dead wrong. They don’t agree with everything I say and they challenge me to be more.
If you’re too nice, you do not get to see my closet. I don’t want you to say, “Oh, that’s o.k. My Aunt Thelma was that way.” Ever so polite. No, I want you to say, “Yikes! But, here’s my closet too. It’s also messy. …Now, you need to clean yours out. Let me help you (or pray for you!).”
If you’re judgmental, you do not get to see the inside of my life. If you’re neat and tidy, I probably want to keep you in my foyer. If all your posts are about your homemade, organic snacks, your 5k medals, and your chore chart, you probably need to stand in my driveway and chat by the car, because we don’t have a lot in common. It’s not that I don’t love you. I do and you’re probably really great. I just don’t want you to know how unhealthy our breakfast cereal is, or how messy and crazy and hectic my whole life is.
Though let’s be honest, I don’t hide it well. I’m not a great foyer friend because I’m too eager, too impatient. I tend to be very loud and open about who I am – my whole, messy, imperfect self.
You know why I’m open? Because maybe if I am, then you will feel safe to be open, too. Maybe you can have that faith conversation with someone else when you need to – someone who won’t judge you. Maybe if I’m messier than you are, you’ll feel safe with me. Maybe you feel better about who you are when you realize you aren’t alone. We ALL have messy moments, and yours are welcome and accepted and EXPECTED.
As moms, we try to play a game where we look better and nicer and more “put together.” We dress in clothes we hope make us look stylish and “ahead of the mom game.” I decided a long time ago that I would rather be relatable. If you compliment my dress, I do not mind telling you it came from a Walmart clearance rack. Or better yet, the thrift store. I don’t have to be the prettiest, the coolest, or have the best job. I used to need that to build up my own confidence about myself, but now I’m at peace, and with that comes confidence. So, I’m o.k. if my insta photo doesn’t get one million likes.
Yes, I believe it’s important to have pride in the way we look and act. But I don’t want the pride in how I look and act to be intimidating, off-putting, or in any way put a wall between me and someone else.
As I said, I haven’t always felt this way. But, if showing you my messy self brings walls down so we can have real conversations, I’m perfectly fine with that.
This is important to me because there were people in my life who let me cry, let me vent, let me argue about God at God. They stayed by my side till I figured out who I am, whose I am, and what truly matters. The things that truly matter, truly matter to me. And you, sweet mama, truly matter.
So, fling that door open wide and come on in! I got a closet you just GOT to see…
