Unopened Cupcakes

I brought some store-bought mini cupcakes into work for a baby shower we were holding for a coworker that day. I've been walking this journey of infertility for about two years now (really more like I've been begrudgingly stomping my feet). I knew it was going to be hard. But I felt like I could slap a smile on and power through. I even came up with an exit strategy just in case. 

In the hour leading up to the shower, I felt my heart filling with anxiety. It had already been a stressful work day. I didn't have much emotional energy left to put towards this shower. I tried to delay going in, still deciding if I was going to participate. Then I started to hear coworkers ask, "Where's Lindsey?" And several started texting me as well. The anxiety got the best of me. Instead of going to the shower, I found a quiet place to hide and started to cry.

I felt embarrassed for not going. I felt like everyone would be disappointed with me for not being there. I was angry with myself for not being able to suck it up and show up. I felt like a failure, a coward, for not being able to do what I felt I should have been able to do. And as I often do when I'm worked up about something, I thought about those stupid cupcakes that were sitting, unopened, in my desk drawer. 

But as I sat there and processed everything, I came to realize this wasn't a failure. It was a victory. Instead of forcing myself to do something that I didn't have the energy to do, I listened to what my emotions were telling me. I prioritized myself and my needs. I took time to feel those big emotions and grieve infertility. I let myself have a good cry, something I haven't done for a long time. This wasn't a failure, it was a win. This wasn't cowardice, it was courage. 

Society has taught us an unfair definition of courage. Courage is portrayed as "The Little Engine That Could," powering through and making it up that hill despite all odds. While that's true, sometimes courage is choosing to sit it out. Sometimes it's choosing not to attend the shower even if it means people are upset with you. Sometimes courage is slowing down to pay attention to your needs instead of trying to go on with the show. True courage is being willing to be weak because His power is on display in our weakness. 

It's okay not to show up. It's okay to take time to feel big feelings, to mourn. It's okay to be weak. It's okay that those cupcakes went unopened.