Give a little a self respect to the person in the mirror.
That person has seen you through everything- the pain, the fear, the worry and the sadness. That person has felt the joy, hope and desire of every day of your life.That person is you.
This was going to be an obligatory post on Valentine’s Day. As a single person (and having been a single person every Valentine’s Day of my life) I’m not all hyped up about the “season of love.”
During college, one of my friends would confide in me that she was upset that she didn’t have a valentine. I, being the person I was, would say “Jesus is my Valentine.” Growing up as a Christian, I learned that God has to be the center of my life. That I had to love him- first and foremost. Since I am a person of extremes I took that to mean I had to hate myself. That hate has deep roots from years of believing I am nothing.
I’ve stepped away from mainstream Christianity because I realize I wasn’t OK with what was being taught. Even now, I struggle with what I want to say because I’m afraid of annoying/pissing off/ or being scolded for having opinions that aren’t “good Christian opinions.”
I believe in the God of love. I believe that love comes in many and varying forms. I believe that our souls are immortal and sometimes, our souls’ counterpart lives in a body that is the same gender as ours. I believe that God loves all. I believe that those who judge and hate stir up the devil more than those who decide to live outside of what is deemed “normal”.
I am not normal. I have several diseases that aren’t curable. I was angry and mad about that for a while but, now, I accept that it makes me who I am. I’m on a journey to discover more about self love. I hesitate to write the words I want to write because I am afraid of being judged. I’m afraid of the backlash and of how people will view me. I believe that love exists. Do I know what love is? I’m not sure yet. For years, I’ve lived in self hate. I turned my back on all pretenses of love because love is scary and painful. All of my experiences of love are laced with suffering. I can’t blame myself for letting my heart turn to stone.
Somehow, I turned 25 and I don’t know how. My childhood friends are married and having babies. Or at the very least, they are dating. My news feed is full of pictures of ultrasounds and of wedding photos. The need to hate myself started to course through my veins again. I thought I’d banished the ghosts but I didn’t. For over the past year, I convinced myself that no one loves me. That there is no one out there for me. Which means that I burrowed deep into myself and gave up.
I’ve kept myself from flying by cutting my wings with dull blades. I take jobs that don’t suit me but are safe. Within a few months the need to fly, to soar fills me but I ignore it because I am a nobody. I am unlovable. I deserve to be poor and broke and stressed out. I deserve what has happened to me. I deserve to live dreaming of what will never be.
I think what has kept me from going over the edge is the very thing I hate about myself.
I am a dreamer.
Which means that I don’t go with the logical choices. My life has been an interesting adventure because of my choices. I wish my life had been easier. I wish I had been born into a family where my parents were married and my dad was the stereotypical dad who chased away the bad guys and told me that I was beautiful and that one day a young man would come into my life. I wish I had a dad that said he would sit that man down and warn him to not harm me. How I dream of a dad that I could run and cry to. I don’t have a dad. I never did- not in the deepest sense at least.
I didn’t grow up in a normal home. For years I convinced myself to ignore that fact but doing that did more harm than good. I’m overwhelmed. I want to curl up and never wake up. I don’t have a champion to run to when the going gets tough. How do I explain the grief I feel?
I can tell you that emotions are my kryptonite. Narcolepsy and Cataplexy are triggered by stressors. Emotions are stressors. As I write this I have to weave through a maze of words and walls. What can I say- how will it make sense? What won’t be censored? I live in a dictatorship where the dictator is me.
The dictator doesn’t want me to succeed because it fears success and happiness. I was born to fly though and I can’t keep cutting my wings. Who I am now isn’t who I will always be. I’m becoming more and I want to share that with someone. I’m at a point in my life where I want to share my life with someone else. I want to be able to have someone who gets just as excited as I do when things fall into place.
I want to have someone to hold hands with and to laugh with. I want to know they got my back and I’ve got theirs. I want to know that I am safe with them and that they won’t leave me. I guess I’ve lived a life of too many changes; a life where too many people left me. I’m jaded when it comes to love. Afterall, I’ve met plenty of boys who are interested in my body but none who are interested in me, as a person.
So, I did something extreme. I put in an application to be on this show.
If I get accepted (which I doubt… but at least I tried) I would do it, because I don’t trust my judgment when it comes to finding a mate. However, I do trust people who have made studying and researching love their life’s work.
Do you think I’ve gone too far?