When the Smile Doesn’t Reach Your Eyes

There’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now and that's the art of coming back.

Coming back to your dreams.

Coming back to your words.

Coming back to yourself.

Sometimes we fall off. I don’t mean in the cute little, “Oops, I forgot to do my morning routine today” kind of way. I mean the hard fall. The one where you go quiet. Where you step away from the very things that once gave you joy, because life, in all its heaviness, doesn’t give you room to carry it and create something beautiful at the same time.

I started this blog because I had this aching desire to let people know that they weren’t alone. That there are women, people, folks out there who struggle silently. People who feel things deeply but don’t always have the words to say it. I wanted to be brave enough to share all the things: the messy things, the meaningful things, the quiet struggles, and the loud ones, too.

But, there's always a but. Here's the truth: sometimes the drive isn’t there. The passion fizzles out and it’s not because of some grand, inspirational life event. Surely not because I was busy traveling the world or building something new or because my job was just so overwhelmingly amazing.

No. Sometimes, you fall off because you simply don’t have it in you anymore. What you do have, you use to survive.

That’s it.

You use it to wake up, to make sure the people you love are fed and safe. To hold onto your job. To keep breathing.

When you’re in that place, that bone-tired, soul-heavy, empty place, there isn’t anything left for dreaming or writing or sharing.

There’s only surviving. I'm here to tell you that is okay.

I’ve been there. I’m still kind of there. I won’t sit here and pretend I’m on the other side of it, sipping coffee in the sunshine with no rain clouds in sight. That’s not my truth right now. Some days are better than others. Some days I catch myself smiling and it feels real. Other days, the smile doesn’t reach my eyes.

You know how in books they say something like, “Jessica smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes”? I never really understood that line when I was younger. Now, as a grown woman, I live it.

Some days, my smile doesn’t make it all the way to my eyes, and that’s okay. Then there are days when it does. There are days when I don’t know how or why but I feel… good. I feel like me. Those days are beautiful because the sun seems to shine brighter and the birds chirp louder. I’m learning to hold them close. I’m learning not to question them. Just to feel them and say, “Thank you.” No disclaimers. No guilt.

Just thank you.

This post is for anyone who has fallen off. Whatever that means for you.

Fallen off your routines. Your passions. Your plans. Your people. Your purpose. You don’t owe anyone an explanation for the pause. You don’t need a cute, clean reason for the silence. You don’t have to wrap your hard seasons in a bow just to make others comfortable.

Come back when you’re ready.

When you do, don’t apologize for surviving. Don’t shrink. Just come back. There is room for your return. There will always be room for your return.

It is my deepest, most sincere hope that wherever you are in your journey, whether you are flying, crawling or simply lying still, you have more days where your smile meets your eyes. More moments where peace wraps itself around you and stays long enough for you to catch your breath. Promise me this though, when that happens, even if it’s just for a second, promise me you'll sit still in that feeling and say, “Thank you.”

No apology necessary.

You’re here.

That’s more than enough.