Can You Hear Me Now

A person is like a city. You shouldn’t let a few less desirable parts put you off the whole. There may be bits you don’t like, a few dodgy side streets and suburbs, but the good stuff makes it worthwhile.

Matt Haig

I have a friend who signed up with an online dating service. She had been single for a number of years and although her life was quite full, she missed having a special man in her life.

As we spoke about what she wanted to say in her profile, she mentioned that she didn’t want someone with too much baggage in his life. That got me to thinking about what exactly is baggage. She has two great children. Would someone consider them baggage? Her husband, and my friend, was killed in a car accident. Is he baggage, too? She helps care for her ailing father-in-law? More baggage?

We all have baggage in our lives. It consists of our accomplishments, failures, friends, family, the places we’ve lived and worked, our hopes and our dreams, the awards we’ve been given, the hearts we’ve broken, our family of origin, the lies we’ve told, the people we’ve loved, the dreams we’ve abandoned, the people who left us, and so much more. Our life is our baggage and anyone without baggage hasn’t lived much of a life.

My life is filled with all of the above and so much more — lots that I am proud of and some that evokes tremendous regret (I am someone who believes in regret, but that’s an article for another day). It’s who I am and who I am cannot be summed up in only rainbows and unicorns.

Parts of me are easy to love. Parts are not so easy. No matter how I’ve tried, none of my parts can be jettisoned like extra weight from an overloaded cargo plane. I carry inside me everything that I’ve ever experienced. My baggage is how I learn and grow. It’s how I recognize pitfalls before I stumble into them.

But Wait, There’s More

Although my friend was only concerned with her love life, baggage applies to many other aspects of life. Friends come with baggage. Relatives come with baggage. Coworkers and employees come with baggage.

A résumé gap due to caring for children or aging parents should not be seen as a negative. Neither should medical, mental, or emotional issues. I am advocating for a world in which our more difficult experiences and challenges are not counted as strikes against us. They aren’t scars or blemishes. They are the things that allow us to be fully engaged in the complexities of life.

There is a song by David Wilcox where he sings, “You’ve got a whole heart, give me the hard part. I can love that too.” Isn’t that what a loving relationship is all about? By not allowing someone to see your hard parts you are denying that they exist and by denying them you are denying yourself.

If I ever write my own personals ad (which I hope I am never forced to do), I want it to read “those without baggage need not apply.” I don’t want to be an empty shell so why would I want to spend my time with one? I want her whole heart. I want her hard parts. I can love her baggage, too.

These are the stories of love and desire
these are the ghosts that haunt our restless days and nights
tales of searching and untangling
tales of hope and desperation

These are the stories of anger and disappointment
of questions with two few answers

And here I am
just another face in a crowd of faces
teeming with stories
just like mine