Truth and Transparency

In a Facebook post addressing her newly changed relationship status, author and resident mentor in my head, Liz Gilbert said the following: 

I need to live my life in truth and transparency, even more than I need privacy, or good publicity, or prudence, or other people's approval or understanding, or just about anything else. Truth and transparency not only make my life more ethical, but also easier. Why easier? Because untruth is always complicating, and truth — no matter what the consequences — is always strangely simplifying.

I thought about my tendencies. Complicated. So much grey and in-between that the concrete and tangible look out of place among all my other pieces. Relationships with no name, no beginning and no end; I took feeling over rationale and privileged the sensual over the sound. What did I need the hard and fast boundedness of predictability for? I was a wild child. I was bohemian and free, untethered and unwilling to trade my liberation for any thing or any being. And I suppose to some extent, I will always be her. 

And. 

While my life grew more and more chaotic with uncertainty occupying every crevasse of my world, I began to day-dream about province. Home; both in the figurative and literal sense.  I was ready to be home and I was ready to build a home. Hang photos on the wall and plan meals for the week. Not only that, I was ready for all that came with sharing my life, despite my utter disdain for sharing writ large. A noticeable shift. I had begun to ripen and the girl who spent so much of her time stirring in her own imagination, focused on her own selfish goals was now a woman who was ready to be...well? weak. 

It wasn't the word I thought I was going to type but it is the one most befitting. Weakness, softness, and really ripeness. That was me right now. I am open to all that life has to offer and that openness brings with it a sort of vulnerability that feels like the lips of your lover on the center of your chest. There you are, cherishing the very crux of me, the place of all my intersections. How are you so able to See me? Well I suppose that has a lot to do with my willingness to be seen. You have met me at my blossoming, I am ready to be gazed upon, admired, inhaled and breathed in. My arms like petals wide and opening towards the light in sweet surrender to that which would surely come what may. That is the truth, the naked truth, the--in Liz's estimation--transparent truth.