Bones in the Light

A cartoon-style illustration of a child wearing a glow-in-the-dark skeleton costume, standing against a soft twilight sky with a bare tree in the background. The image represents childhood vulnerability and the desire to be seen for who we really are.

Have you ever seen the sky reflected in water?
At sunset, when reds and oranges mix with the blue — it’s beautiful, but also a little unclear. A mirror of something real, but never quite the real thing.

When I look in the mirror, the face staring back at me often feels the same.
Painted in expressions I’ve practiced. Covered in layers I barely notice anymore. Sometimes I wonder if even I know what’s underneath it all. Are there real emotions stirring somewhere in there, or just more facades?

Lately, I’ve caught myself thinking:
“If I were really capable of being successful, wouldn’t I be there already?”

I don’t know if that’s honesty or self-sabotage.
Maybe it’s a lie I tell myself to feel better about where I am — or maybe, it’s a question I’m scared to answer truthfully. Either way, it sits with me. And it’s heavy.

I compare myself to others far too often.
But how can I measure my life against someone else’s when I don’t even know if I’m showing up as my full self?


A Skeleton in the Light

When I was a kid, my mom made me a skeleton costume for Halloween.
It was black and covered in hand-painted bones that glowed in the dark. I remember how proud she was of it — and how I couldn’t wait to show it off. When I stepped into the night, the bones lit up under the porch light. People pointed, smiled. I was glowing. Visible in a way I had never been before.

It was the first time in my life I felt like I was wearing my insides on the outside.

Of course, it was just a costume. But there was something powerful about being seen like that — bones and all. No hiding, no pretending. Just structure and truth, glowing in the dark.

Some part of me still craves that:
To be seen clearly.
To wear the truth of who I am without apology.


If true authenticity is what I’m after, maybe it starts smaller than I thought.
Maybe it begins by noticing how often I say “I’m fine” when I’m really not.
By pausing before I perform a version of myself that isn’t true.

Maybe it starts with telling the truth — not just to others, but to me.

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *