Tough AND Loving

Growing up is hard. Here I am in my twenties and I’m just now realizing this. Since I've been on my own, life has been wonderful and terrible all at the same time. Suddenly my parents aren't right here with me day after day to keep me in check. Back home, they’d tell me when I’d cop an attitude or when I was being unreasonable. Now, it’s pretty much just up to me to gauge myself and make sure that I’m behaving correctly and making the right choices.

You know, there is no one here to protect me anymore. My family lives 4 hours away, I don’t have a boyfriend, and a lot of my closest friends are far away too. So, it’s pretty much just me going out and about. I always feel protected, though, because despite the lack of human protection around me, I've got a lot of God protection. His arms are around me like a hedge, and it makes me feel safe.

Yet at the same time, I've learned that as a single girl out in the world, I've got to be brave, I've got to be bold, and I've got to be rough sometimes. Yesterday I was talking with a coworker about height. When I told him I’m 5’4”, he said, “Wow! I always thought you were like 5’7”.” That made me happy, because I've discovered that ever since moving on my own, I've imagined in my head that I’m taller and bigger than I actually am. When I’m out, I walk with purpose and drive. It’s a protection mechanism so that when I’m walking through a sketchy part of town or somewhere in the city at night, I give off a “don’t mess with me” vibe.

Yet, I’m coming to learn that there is a fine line between being tough and not taking any crap from anyone, and being crass and bitter. I never want to be the latter, yet, some of the stuff that I've been through in the past year has definitely changed me, and not always for the better. However, I’m aware of that, and thankfully, I also have some friends who give me kind warning signs when I’m drifting too far toward the angry side of things.

And sometimes it just prompts me to reach out to God and just beg Him to help me. Sometimes I just ask, “God, please, don’t let life make me hard.” Growing up, I had the perfect, idyllic childhood. Nothing bad ever happened to me, so somehow, I wasn't prepared for my adult life to knock me off my feet in the ways that it has. Life has toughened my skin a lot, but I don’t want it to make me bitter. I want to be able to look back at my twenties and be proud of the times that I stood up for myself, yet did so kindly and with love.

                Dear God, help me to be both tough and loving…

Those Lip Balm Moments

I have this strange way of thinking. Every year, I have a habit of mentally reliving whatever I was doing the previous year at that exact same time. For example, let’s say that last year at this time I was playing a particular video game, and I had good memories of it, I’ll suddenly become nostalgic for that game again and want to play it. It goes the same way for the people I see, the foods I eat, the books I read, etc. I think it has something to do with my Synesthesia, but who knows. Even scientists can’t figure that beautiful mess out.   

Well, whatever it is, it’s really strong right now. I’m mentally reliving last January. I find myself craving the foods I was introduced to then, wanting to go the places that I first discovered at that time, and most of all, I find myself missing the guy I was dating then. You know, because I hold no anger or any ill feelings towards him anymore, it’s hard not to miss him. I don’t have that old hatred to comfort me. And in my mind, I keep expecting him to show up at my house, to take long walks with me in the dark around our neighborhood, to cuddle up with me on the couch on cold nights. And I have to mentally stop myself and remind my heart and my mind that those things aren't part of my reality anymore.

I dread when April comes, because then I know I’ll be mentally reliving the break-up again and it’s going to suck.

And one last pathetic detail: when we had been dating, my ex had given me a tube of the peppermint Burt’s Bees lip balm because he used it and he knew how much I loved it. I've sort of been absentmindedly using it ever since, and I’m one of those odd people who can actually use a tube of Chapstick all the way until it’s finished. Well, today I went to put some on, and I saw I had reached the end of the tube. And I know this sounds so pathetic, but it made me so sad. It was as if I was losing the last piece of him that I have.

I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like he’s dead. I never spoke to him after the break-up, and now that I’m no longer angry or hurt, I’m just…sad. It’s like mourning a lost loved one. It’s not all-consuming, but there are those moments…those lip balm moments…where I miss him so much that my heart aches. 

Wesley

You know, I spent a lot of time in college. Yeah. You change your major and compile it with changing schools twice, and you’ll acquire a few extra credits. And by a few, I mean dozens.

I talk about Chesapeake a lot, because let’s face it: it was my favorite of my three college experiences. I also talk about Regent a good bit because it became my “alma mater,” if you will. Yet, you won’t hear me talk about Wesley very much.

*Takes a deep breath.* I’m going to talk about Wesley now. I only spent a year there, and because I disliked it so much, I left and found Regent. Now I’ll never ever regret that move because I think it was God placing me where he wanted me, but recently, I've been thinking about my time at Wesley. As much as I complained, and as much as I really hated a lot of things about that school, there were some good things. For example, everyone who I became friends with there, I am still friends with.

Over Christmas break I randomly got to see one guy who I knew during my time at Wesley. We still keep in touch, and when I saw him again, it was just as good as when he used to brighten up the hallways with his smile and amazing sideburns.

And just a couple of days ago I drove home to attend a friend’s birthday party, back in Delaware. He and his wife have always been good friends of mine ever since Wesley. I hadn't seen them in years, yet that didn't stop us from having contact, keeping in touch, and even talking about and encouraging each other’s writings. I was so glad that I went, because I don’t want to lose those kinds of connections, those kinds of friendships.

Sometimes I’m amazed that such beautiful things can come out of some of the darkest times. 

Something Was...Different.

I woke up this morning and something was…different.

The birds were singing, the sun was shining…but it was more than that. Suddenly I realized it was because I was happy. Today was the first day in ten months that I have awakened feeling happy. I smiled at the birds and the sun, and I thanked God for that very morning and all that was in it. Then I rolled over and went back to sleep.

I got up a couple hours later and sang in the shower for the first time in forever. I even opened my blinds and curtains. I don’t remember the last time I’ve done that. I’ve been living in a darkened room for a long time.

I felt as if a weight had been lifted off of me. I looked in the mirror to see if I actually had lost weight. No, I hadn’t. But everything about me just felt lighter.

That is because it is over. Everything, all the bad, horrible, dark, depression that I went through last year is finally over. The black veil of mourning has been put away. Forgiveness has been bestowed. The darkness is gone and here comes the morning.

I had forgotten how much I love mornings.

Forgiveness (not JUST a great song by The Eagles).

Forgiveness.

It’s not just a great song by The Eagles (although it is that too).

I've come to discover that I can identify the exact moment when I've forgiven someone. Usually, I’m just going about my day, and something will happen that reminds me of that person, and suddenly, I realize, that I have forgiven them.

For example, recently, I was driving along and I had a quick thought of someone who had recently really hurt me. And in my mind, I asked myself, “What will I do if I see him again this year?” And my subconscious answered for me and said, “Well, I guess you’ll just have to accept the way things are and just be okay with it.” And I realized that it was a step towards forgiveness. If there was a meter that could measure a person’s level of forgiveness towards another person, mine would have been at about 80% right then.

And then today, I was on a social media site where I saw some pictures that he had recently posted. They were your usual, “I’m taking a picture of my coffee and the journal I’m writing in” kind of photos. And instead of continuing to scroll to the next person’s post, I lingered for a moment and looked. In both pictures, was the journal that I had given him. And I don’t know why, but my heart got warmer, and I realized I was glad that he was using my gift to him. I was glad that he found joy in the journal.

And suddenly, I realized that my forgiveness meter had reached a full 100%.

I didn't care anymore about the ways he had wronged me. I didn't care anymore about the hurtful things he had said, or the fact that our once-beautiful relationship had crumbled. None of that mattered anymore. Sure, it still hurts, but it doesn't matter. It is over. It is done. I have survived, and I have forgiven.

And let me tell you, forgiveness really isn't for the person being forgiven. It’s for the person doing the forgiving.