Broken (in the best possible way)

by Jenny Lawson

Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in. —LEONARD COHEN

What we really want is to know we’re not alone in our terribleness. We want to appreciate the failure that makes us perfectly us and wonderfully relatable to every other person out there who is also pretending that they have their shit together and didn’t just eat that onion ring that fell on the floor. Human foibles are what make us us, and the art of mortification is what brings us all together.

Basically the secret to a long-lasting marriage is memory loss and well-meaning lies and beach margaritas.

And if one day I look at you and don’t remember who you are or how much you mean to me, know that your importance is still as real then as it is now. Know that you are locked away someplace safe. Know that the me who loved you is still sitting on that beach, forever feeling the sunlight. And know that I’m okay with not having that memory right now, because the me that holds it tight is keeping it safe and uncorrupted and glorious. And she loves you. And I do too. Remember that. For me.

I have struggled with anxiety for as long as I can remember. When I was young I thought it would pass as I got older, and when I was older I thought it would pass when I was successful, and when I was successful I thought that it was hopeless because even when everything was going right I was still wrong.

That fear can make you think irrational thoughts. That you are only ever truly trapped when you give up and allow yourself to be.