Lucas and I just arrived in another state, Minas Gerais, for one of his (many) cousin's wedding. I'm completely exhausted and literally trying to keep my eyes open as I do a last minute proof over this post. I'm simultaneously thinking over these words and about each one of you, and about brushing my teeth, washing my face, and putting on my comfy pj's. But the party is just getting started, pizza has arrived, and the rest of my Brazilian in-laws have yet to arrive. (!)
So here's some thoughts I had one day over a coffee and the amazing sensation of being completely emotionally "free". Void of all insecurities, guilt, and shame, the moments and days are increasing in which I feel mature, beautiful, and most importantly, me.
"It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the Lord set his love on you and chose you, for you were the fewest of all peoples, but it is because the Lord loves you..."
I used to be the least, and at times still feel to be so. I personally placed myself in the back and in corners where I believed that I belonged – to not be seen. Not necessarily in physical corners and places, but in the farthest of corners of my mind, which certainly manifested itself in my physical posture. I placed myself under and beneath, submitting to everyone and everything around me, believing that I was unworthy of anything good. All placement of honor or attention was too special for me, a place that I did not deserve.
There’s a deep mix of feelings that brought this on. Out of fear of being emotionally abandoned or punished for expressing my anger, I suppressed my needs in order to preserve the other. In all of this confusion I found yet another way to submit to everyone but myself. I was enslaved to others through guilt, and despite I couldn’t tell you under what accusations, I held onto this title in all faithful submission. It was a way to punish myself for the subconscious hurt and anger I felt, for I feared the reality of my feelings and the pain that they could cause.
Things have begun to look different here in this lonely, dark corner stained with heart-broken tears. With the support of both my best friend and an encouraging psychoanalyst, I’m finally coming out. Not to shout or to try to be like everyone else, but to be who I’m finding myself to be: myself. My thoughts, my feelings, and my purpose; its all coming out in my own, unique voice. It’s a passionate and lovely pursuit of testing the many mediums my awakening heart draws me to.
I haven’t broken completely free, and I still have moments and hours of fighting the urge to surrender to my comfy little corner, but the freedom is mine. The fact that I notice my insecure decisions and the distorted feeling of good they brought me is my victory in itself. Such knowledge is truth. So I may slip and choose to hide in that familiar place, but I will rise again because I have chosen freedom, I have chosen to live. And I smile with pleasure in knowing that I am living as me, and that, along the way, other’s might look at me and think “wasn’t she the one that used to be small and shy and hide away in corners?” Then I will unashamedly reply “Yes, that was me! And look how I’ve been made new!”
It’s all for His glory.