Worthiness was not my birthright.
The light, the heart of me that could illuminate the world got shrouded in doubt.
When you are
you are alone. You trust no one, because to trust is to risk. You build walls.
As a child, I fought hard to be worthy, but I was just
I wanted to use my life to serve the world, but made terrible choices. Stifled my blessings.
More reminders of unworthiness. Undeserving of joy.
It was time to take responsibility.
All life is energy.
We beam our signals like radio frequencies, transmitting responsibility for our own lives.
And it was time for me to put aside that I was
Your life is speaking to you. What is it saying?
It told me to
Just because you deeply desire an exceptional life.
And he was the first person to feel that breath.
Just because he was lonely
And you were there,
And he used phrases like “kindred spirit,”
And words like “brilliant,”
Those are words.
This is what writers do.
Use words to elicit feelings.
Just because he wrote things that made you feel special,
YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL.
You’re just someone he wrote to. That week.
In the middle of who he wrote. Last week. And next week.
YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL
You were just New.
Those who feel unworthy habitually relate to our inner life
in the same way that others attended to us.
We disconnect and banish parts of ourselves.
You never completely rid yourself of this, but in good times,
you allow yourself to dance with it.
And there is joy.
But then –
Someone shows up to remind you, and take you back
To the place where the pain and memory of old experiences reside.
And, past reality IS present.
The emotional self does not live in linear time. “Then” becomes “now.”
I kept trying to rewrite this script
So that you would not become a filter through which I saw the world.
And set myself up to be reminded repeatedly. That I was
I only know now how bad it was
By how hard it is for me to breathe while I write this.
“I don’t treat you the way I treat my real friends.”
And now I clench my fists just to feel my fingertips
To make sure I exist.
Now, when I interact with others,
I rarely see the potential for love, only for hurt and rejection.
How ironic that you are healed.
The conscienceless of the Internet was the perfect way
to not hear the pain in my voice.
I’m building walls again.
I’m raw and broken.
Even the slightest touch can trigger waves and waves of overwhelming pain
from your ‘Hit and Run’ blog attack.
The perfect description of what this feels like.
I was strong, but my strength was in my empathy. Once I was not allowed to feel, I became weak.
I was beautiful, but not allowed to heal. I became filled with emotional waste. Ugly and sick.
I had purpose; to breathe and reflect feelings. My purpose was invalidated. I am unimportant, superfluous, diminished.
I was powerful, but my power was guided by my purpose. Once that was gone, my power became self-destructive.
I was capable of great love. I was not allowed to be heard. My love got lost in the maze of my subconscious, buried under piles of unhealed pain.
I understand the manifestation of grace and God, so I know that there are no coincidences.
I was meant to be reminded
That I am
Don’t ever believe that it is only our “choice” to feel;
That others cannot make you feel a certain way.
Maya Angelou, one of the great writers of contemporary literature, said:
“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did,
but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
I live out of that place everyday.
So many months where I was made to feel
YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL
A lesson I won’t soon forget.
In my heart, I’m listening.
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Things are never what they seem. Please be careful,