Seriously, have you noticed that most people only write about their successes on Facebook? Does that bother you?
I gotta say that it doesn’t bother me one bit. I don’t feel sorry for myself because I haven’t accomplished the same things. I don’t feel inadequate. I’m not envious.
Frankly, I’m inspired when I see my friend Julie post about her almost daily longer-than-I-have-ever-run runs. I love it when Sally checks in with her “I burned 793 calories doing Zumba” posts. I get excited when I see a friend starting the C25K challenge and posting about it on Facebook.
Often, I listen to others complain about Facebook because seeing people post about their beautiful lives, wonderful children, adoring husband, lovely dinners and skinny legs depresses them. Because their lives do not measure up to all that perfection.
But, honestly, does anyone have a perfect life?
I’ve been “accused” of having a perfect life a few times. To my face. With a sneer. With the intent to harm. And, I’ll admit, it does hurt to have someone try to hurt me.
But then, I get a grip and realize that the woman who hates to hear about how much I love my husband wishes that she loved her husband more. She has no idea how hard we work at our marriage and that by posting about how much I love my husband I’m also reminding myself that I love my husband. We are in it for the long-haul, and we could use all the encouragement we can get.
When I post about the successes of my children, their love for one another, their silly words or their helpfulness around the house, I’m reminding myself of how much joy they bring to me. I’m recognizing the gift of them. I just want to celebrate being their mom with my Facebook friends. Because, honestly, it’s not all unicorns and rainbows in this house of boys, and I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’ve never been a mom before, so I’m learning as I go, and I could use all the encouragement I can get.
So, when I post about the awesome run I had this morning, just chuckle. It doesn’t happen every day. If you saw me in real life, you’d know that I don’t really make running look very glamorous. Sometimes (ahem, most of the time) I make it look rather uncomfortable. My thighs jiggle WAY more than they should for someone who considers herself a runner. My ears stick out of my hat and my hair flips up on one side. My belly typically finds its way out of my too-tight shirt, which I constantly yank down. When I watch my shadow running in front of me at the end of my run I get a picture of what I must have looked like during my entire run. It’s hilarious. Embarrassing. But hey, at least I’m doing it.
And, you know what?
I could use all the encouragement I can get.