This week’s book club reading was supposed to be simple: basically, just an introduction to the girls. But it’s made me think of promises… and charades. This week’s prompt includes a word cloud activity that I published tonight and expect to generate some conversation – it surrounds this topic of promises.

Interestingly, the word promise means to put forth something. It made me wonder if it means putting forth something, then is our attitudes and personalities promising something to others? If the answer is yes… what am I promising? And, if others dare to draw closer, to discover the person behind the pen, would they feel as though that promise was fulfilled?

In the book, Sage is a lot like me…. But so is Eden. Eden says she comes from a family of Pretenders. She doesn’t believe she fits into the wealthy New Hannah Cove community. One minute, she feels pride at her school accomplishments; the next, she wonders why it matters because in her real life, nobody cares if she’s acing tests every day. The outsider looking in sees the promise she’s making: intelligent, straight-laced, headed for success, hard working, obedient, good. That’s the promise or the charade. No one would ever think the goody two shoes, trustworthy Eden Briggs would deliberately sabotage someone else’s dream. Yet, she does try to do exactly that. Later, this same promising girl risks tanking her own dream with alcohol and irresponsible behavior. Which is the true Eden?

My grandfather told me once that I anticipated and met the needs of people before I was ever even asked. I never got in trouble with my teachers (except for the third grade when me and Rachel talked too much when we were supposed to be watching Reading Rainbow at school but that was an anomaly). I didn’t just pass “shops” at work—I was the only one in the history of the hotel to flawlessly ace them. Twenty-two times. I volunteer for multiple things and work hard to bring to life the dreams of my girls. I’m 43 and never tasted even a sip of alcohol. I’ve been in one truly intimate relationship. I have no trouble leading or speaking in public. I smile all the time, all day long. I never say no.

But what are these behaviors putting forth or promising the world? And do they reflect the real me? Do they promise a sociable extravert because, if so, that isn’t really a true reflection of how I really feel? On the other hand, if they promise someone totally introverted, that’s not really accurate, either. The truth is: I crave relationships… but only those that are meaningful and impactful. And being one-on-one scares me: I’d rather be in front of a large group. Am I putting forth a persona of blind submission? This one is tricky because while it’s true that I will go to ridiculous lengths to avoid a confrontation, I’m also pretty stubborn and typically will find a way to do what I want to do. It’s okay to reflect one side of who I really am… but only if I also find a way to avoid perpetuating the charade that says that’s only who I am. 

Because what I really want isn’t for others to see someone who has it all together or has achieved something that’s out of reach for them. I want others to recognize their own stories in mine, to think, we’re not that different; the same thing happened to me. If she can get through it, so can I. I like to write, too; maybe I’ll write about what happened. I want others to think, so all she did was write? and volunteer a little? I can do that. Fear also motivates me to be vulnerable and open; see, I’ve always feared that others, when they got to know the real me, would decide I’m not enough or that who they thought I was turned out to be different than who I really was and leave.

Living a charade might make one less vulnerable… but it doesn’t create joy. Instead, it encourages feelings of isolation and loneliness. It leaves you worrying that no one sees you…. knows you… and chooses you anyway. If my actions are making a covenant with others, I hope it is one of authenticity, vulnerability, and encouragement.

A covenant is a solmen vow; it’s a promise. As children, locking pinkies with someone was a way to cement an oath, to say, this is the way it is: I’m promising you that you can rely on me; this is what I will do. Treating the things I choose to write about, speak of, invest time into, and personality as a covenant between me and those I encounter allows me to share my true self with others — the vulnerabilities, strengths and everything in between — and hope to see their true selves in return. Thus, we recognize one another as what we are: kindred spirits, fellow human beings experiencing the same highs and lows of life, far more alike than we are different, and capable of inspiring each other. It’s locking pinkies with each other and, just as importantly, myself and vowing to refuse to let fear of humiliation, rejection or anything else stop me from doing all I can to build meaningful connections. Cause, in the end, whether my girls will remember their mother being afraid or overwhelmed or exhausted and overcoming it or their mother refusing to show fear, exhaustion or stress and (incorrectly) assume perfection is the (unobtainable) goal. May I always choose to show vulnerability and allow them to celebrate the overcoming of it with me. 

I asked Breathe what do you think of when you think of the word “covenant” and she said, ‘sealed loyalty.’ That definition has stuck in my mind ever since. Sealed loyalty. When we are true to ouorselves, we are showing loyalty not only to those we love but to ourselves, as well, for to show our true selves means to acknowledge — even, embrace — the flaws… and humbly allow others to support us when we need it. That’s the beauty of a covenant, of a promise: it’s a give-and-take. No invisible scorecard tracking who gave more, no I-O-Us, just humans supporting one another, thereby making this world feel a bit more manageable, awe-inspiring and kind.