I got lost.
In January of 2019, I decided to write
stories about my healing journey, and then I decided to share those
stories with others, so I started a blog. This blog. Right out of the
blocks, I wrote and recorded four very personal posts that were an
introduction to me and my story, as well as the paths I have traveled
and continue to travel in order to find healing. I was off and
running. Or so I thought.
Someone I love very much made an
offhand remark that derailed me. He suggested that perhaps I might
want to write more “positive” things, that people would grow
tired of all my “negative” stories. While he appreciated my
personal accounts, others wouldn't want to read them if they were “so
negative” all the time.
And that's all it took. I quit. I
withdrew. I stopped sharing. I made myself as small as possible.
Again. For the millionth time in my life.
This is clearly an area that needs more
personal growth and healing.
My entire life, I have been shut down
and made to feel stupid or small for asking questions at all, or
heaven forbid, reading about or coming up with answers on my own. All
it took for me to shrink was to make a statement about anything at
all, and for the person I was talking to to say, “are you sure?',
“really?”, “I don't think so”, “now that's just stupid”,
etc. It started with my dad, my brother, the young men who lived in
our house(s) when I was growing up, every boyfriend, my husband,
priests. Pretty much every man of import in my life. And I learned
early that if I just shut up, I'd be OK. I wouldn't get hurt. But
that didn't really ever work. I was always hurt. Because my voice
couldn't stay quiet, and my body armor is very thin.
The funny thing is, my “word of the
year” for 2019 is “Courage”. And one of the things I set out to
do to grow more courageous was share my story, my pain, my growth, my
healing with others. Which is why I started a blog rather than just
journal about it all. So it's kind of ironic that one innocent
comment, made by someone who loves me and just wants me to be OK,
stopped me in my tracks.
An old pain, an old habit. And that's
on me. Because it's not up to other people to validate my worth or my
personal growth. Or to change with me. That's my job.
So I am reclaiming my Courage.
I'll end this post with a short story
of courage in someone else's life that has humbled me and reminded me
that we can be courageous even if we're scared.
Also in January of 2019, my (at the
time) 13 year old son came out to his dad and me. The youngest of seven children,
no one else in the family that he knew of as gay, pretty strict
parents, steeped in the church, surrounded by religiousness; but
thank God he felt loved enough and safe enough to tell his parents he
was gay. Not that I didn't already know. A mother knows these things.
I had my intuitive feelings about it since he was three years old.
And because I talked about it non-stop with my husband in recent
years, and researched, and read books, and listened to the stories of
others, and mostly because I have a deep and unending love for my
child, we were able to give him what he needed most. Complete and
total acceptance for who he is. What he is is bright and loving and
funny and talented and very much “extra”, in his own words. His
light is, so far, undimmable.
He is perfect in every way. God made
him as he is. I love him more than my own life. And I will fight for
him and protect him with every breath in my body.
 |
| Aren't we just the cutest? |
If he can be brave, so can I.
I don't know how much I'll be writing
from this point forward. I have a lot to say! But when it comes to
writing, I fight fear. But I'm learning to have courage.
Rachel Held Evans of blessed memory
used to say, “Be Honest, Be Yourself, Be Kind.” So I will
continue to take up that challenge. And to that I will add, “Be
Brave”.
