I can’t say that I love the sun. Yet I can’t say that I hate it. And saying that I feel impartial to it doesn’t really suffice either. If the sun and I were in a relationship on Facebook, I’d probably list us as “it’s complicated.”
For many years, the sun made me feel vulnerable and exposed. The sun represented summer. A time when everyone donned their favorite swimwear and headed to the coast, wiggling their toes in the remnants of a fallen sand castle. A time when the air is buttery and sweet. Everyone’s smile shines bright in contrast to their skin, which sparkles and twinkles in deepened tones with each kiss from each warm, succulent ray. Everyone seems so happy. So carefree. So very not like me…
For someone who suffered from body image issues, social anxiety, and depression, the bright sun represented something not so bright at all. It made me feel naked. And sticky. It made me feel crowded. And trapped. It made me feel not enough. Not alive. Like some weirdo who cranked their air conditioning up and huddled under a pile of cozy, friendly blankets. Hidden and safe. Protected.
For me, in the beginning, it was the cloudy, gray, and often wet days of fall and winter when I felt the most alive. The most normal and safe. The prettiest. When I’d walk on a quiet, secluded path out in nature, I felt anything but alone. The soft whispers of the crispy blanket of fall beneath my feet told me stories of better days. The cool breeze soothed any fevered worry that filled me. And the smoke the billowed from that chimney far off in the distance, reminded me that there was something waiting for me – home.
That’s how my love for the rain and snow and fall and winter began, I suppose. Or maybe where the relationship escalated to a more serious level. During my darkest days, those times of year were my best. The times that, no matter how bad things were, I’d look forward to.
Fast forward many years, I am now healed. Mostly. As healed as any person can be. And so the sun isn’t penetratingly painful for me anymore. And I see it (and life) with new eyes. Today, I appreciate the light the sun provides. The way it dances in my husband’s beautiful eyes. The way it makes the forest in the fall look as though it’s on fire. The way it rises and sets, spreading it’s rainbow of arms across the world. Hugging us good morning. Holding us good night.
But there will always be a special place carved in my heart, in my soul, and in my imagination for those cloudy days.
The sun has represented both good and bad for me. But then I guess that’s how life is, isn’t it? Good and bad and everything in between. Life itself. Like my relationship with the sun. Is complicated.
What does the word sun bring to your surface?
Unitl next time,