Shells...

Shells... they are beautiful, their shapes and patterns and colours and mystery are so incredible when we find them on the beach. But when they are shielding us from others they have a different affect on us.
I have lived my life in stages. Those stages were more often than not ones characterised by the shell that I wore. In my first 7 years of life, I was a carefree kid, living in a secluded and tightknit neighbourhood in Newfoundland.
In 1986, my family moved to Yarmouth and I put on my first shell. I became shy, reserved, withdrawn and scared to be myself around the people that I met. I wanted to be accepted but felt outside, I had friends but felt that I had to be what I thought they would really like. My thoughts resigned themselves to remaining within. I loved those friends with my whole heart, but still kept parts of me hidden from anyones reach.
Then came "teenagedom", the time when everyone is insecure with their physical, social, psychological and relational self. Thoughts, feelings and emotions are deeply buried, and released in the form of tears into the comfort and privacy of one's pillow. Off and on, I would experiment with the whole openess thing and test people's loyalty. Sometimes I would be met with genuine care and love and other times with disregard. Knowing who was which way was the new goal in friendship.
Near the end of high school, I experienced the crisis of separation. Knowing that I would be leaving people I felt so close to, the genuine ones, the ones I loved, I thought with much dread about that moment when "Goodbye" would be necessary. A new shell, a shield, a dam against any emotion was built in me. I regret my actions at that time a lot. As I pushed away the people who cared deeply about me, thinking it might make goodbyes easier... I retreated into my shell like a turtle does when danger is nearby. I became vindictive, brutally untrue in how I really felt and I regret the hurt I caused. Again, the shell.
A shell might seem like a safe place to retreat to, but really it is a prison. I learned, upon much reflection, that a shell is a dangerous place to be in. It locks us into a tight place where our feelings, emotions and freedom is gone and meaningless. I want to live my life in an open way from this point onward. I want to be honest with how I feel about others and about circumstances, I desire to free my mind to experience pain, joy, uncertainty and love. I don't want to be shy about the things I love and the things I don't care for. But alas, dread comes in and the reality of being in a state of fear about telling the truth to everyone causes me to back up a little.
Maybe I am just not ready yet...