Each time I have to face a part of myself that is unhappy with a situation and face it head on, I’m stunned by the levels of awareness, acceptance, and adaptation I’m flooded with.
For instance, I was dreading a relationship and finding myself hiding from the phone when that someone called. Rather than continue the discomfort, I chose to reach out and tell them how their words/behaviors made me feel (omg with my history, that’s really hard to do!!!). To my delight and surprise, they didn’t take it like my past relationships (friends, family, partners) had; they didn’t scream, shame, or belittle me; no!
They listened. They heard me and they responded in turn and we came to a resolution with both of us much lighter in heart and broader in mind.
With each daring chance I take, I find that most people don’t respond like those in my past have. People with integrity are open and willing to see errors or unintentional wrongs, take accountability, and/or are willing to see through another’s lens to understand their experience. They care about how others feel more than they do about being right. They pause, reflect, consider, and then respond and resolve -they’re not reactive. It’s incredible. They’re vulnerable, sharing secrets and deep thoughts that may otherwise have been scrutinized by our peers –and I receive it with mirth! These’re my people!
For years I was convinced that most people would reject me; I was groomed by much of my family to feel like an outsider or nuisance.
In my youth I was doubted and shamed for blunt observations, often screamed at with the question, “What’s wrong with you?” …as if seeing hypocrisy, denial, or betrayal meant that there was a faulty part in me.
Instead of seeing me as a child, my close family members held developmental expectations of an adult over me, while not meeting them, themselves.
I was blamed for the drama in the house, drama that was never addressed, nor resolved.
My guardians couldn’t respond to my hormones and social challenges with maturity and demonstrate how they expected me to behave; instead, they stooped low and tossed fuel on my already burning pyre, then punished and shamed me to any who’d listen just for reacting to it.
I used to cling to the bible quote that assured me that endurance would one day give me peace
–but I don’t have to wait to die for that to happen.
I can simply stop settling for abusive and toxic people (aka familiar) and seek out healthy minds & whole hearts.
I had no idea, like the Ugly Duckling who learned he was a swan, that kind people are really out here! The stories from the bible, the church and my antisocial mother were that the world would chew me up and spit me out –but it was my own family that did that. The world is forgiving! People of the world of loving, generous, supportive, and kind –nothing like they’re described by the church: “satanic,” or “filled with satan.” Christians are the ones believing in satan! The church is projecting, trying to play favorites, and pitting its followers against diversity! Religions and christian faiths teach exclusion and self-righteousness cloaked in pretend love. It feels so freeing to release that faith.
For me, to return to christianity would be like putting poop back into your backside or Dorothy continuing to believe the Wizard of Oz wasn’t a mere man without any special abilities, besides instilling & causing fear.
But it’s HARD; letting go of the ticket into heaven (the ultimate material world) and facing facts like life also includes death, and death is final and the afterlife is an enigma. Having the “it’s god” answers made life a lot easier to swallow, I must admit. But it is denial to reality, and no amount of threatening, cajoling, daring, or coercing will get me to believe it again.
I’m starting to like the idea of returning to the earth, with mushrooms sprouting and seeding, and animals forraging through my bones that carried 8 children, living on as protons or energy units, zooming about the universe, aimlessly. I don’t mind not knowing what happens after I’m gone.
I don’t mind not worrying about being tortured for eternity (something I cannot fathom) by a god who loves me.
I’m accepting life and growing up. Not only that, but I’m healing from the strikes and wounds that life handed me. I can do this, even if it means I do it alone.