When you have a father that abandons you as a baby and a mother that is absent, addicted to drugs, alcohol and exposes you to all childhood abuses, your bar as the progeny of this disaster is set pretty low, if not just sitting on the ground.
Some of the earliest stickers assigned to me by family members included:
- “Good Girl”
These were my bars. I had free reign to define what the words meant. Of all of them, family members focused most on the word “Strong”. They were proud of me for being so “strong” through what I had been through. I was successful in their eyes because I had such a “strong” mind. I was a good mother because I was “strong”. I was a good wife because I was “strong”. I had a job because I was “smart”. I owned a business because I was “smart”. I took care of my brother because I was a “good girl”. I was always there for family members to help out because I was a “good girl”.
When I was alone with my stickers, standing naked before the mirror of my heart, I knew they were lies.
- I was not strong. I was pretending. I wanted to be what they said I was.
- I was not smart. I was scared. I wanted not to be homeless ever again.
- I was not a good girl. I felt guilty. I felt over blessed in witness to their sufferings.
Naked, I closed my eyes and heard my mom screaming at me when there was no food, yelling:
- “If it wasn’t for you, I would always have something!”
- “Get out of my face! You look like your father.”
Though painful, it was a reminder that I was only a visitor in this world. This would never be ‘home’.
Naked and exposed I hold the stickers before me, to glean which is the one that holds my purpose. Is it one, is it all? If I’m not strong, smart or good, am I worthless?
I realize the error in my thinking and in doing so realize the decisions made out of reverence to other’s thoughts.
I realize that ‘I am’ must be self-defined. That allowing myself to be led from thoughts strung within the minds of those who do not carry my heart or have knowledge of my soul, would leave me forever without.
∞ In such loss my purpose would be forever captive wearing clothes purchased by alms-givers who were unaware of the richness and abundance of my be-ing. ∞
I am led to remember that I was born clothed in promise and that my purpose is to shine in testimony of that promise. In strength or weakness. Intelligence or stupidity. Good or bad.
I am here only to love and when I fall away, the imprint of my passion will be written into the hearts of all of those who are meant to cross my path. Dust in the wind we shall all return.
Let your light shine.