Bonfires and Bluejeans

Randoms from my spot next to the fire

Losing me

on October 21, 2011

     This may come as a bit of a surprise to some, but I’ve never really been normal.  Whatever thought process the average, dull person was given at birth, I missed out on.  Now, in my adult years, I’m so grateful for this gift; as a child and teen, not so much.  I always knew I was a little bit different.  Not like I have short bus issues or anything, but I really haven’t been one to fit into the mold anyone has wanted to put me in before.  And not different in the “it’s time to come out of the closet” way.  (Felt obligated to clear that one up.)  Not so different in the “I feel the need to wear dark makeup and tons of body jewelry and tattoos and be all goth and dark and listen to weird music and read cynical poetry in random coffee houses to be different but yet look the same as everyone else trying to be different” either.  Just different.  Unique.  Not in a tangible, noticeable, or physical way really.  Inside, I felt like I had so much to say, yet when I tried to say it, everyone around me was trying their best to hush me.  Why?  I didn’t say it in the way a young girl should say it.  I was opinionated.  Brash at times.  Completely random most other times.  Crazy.  Funny.  There wasn’t a lot of thought put into what I was saying or doing; things just sorta were said without my thinking first.  My life was ran by my ungoverned thoughts, feelings, and actions.  At that time, it was completely age appropriate.
     As I moved through life, things changed.  I did grow and mature, but I never really lost that spunk and orneriness.  Problem with that, though, is there were a few select people in my life that just didn’t like that part of me.  Funny thing is, those are the very reasons that drew me to these particular individuals, but eventually, those are the qualities and traits that probably caused the most resentment, pain, and hurt in those relationships.  All the eye rolling, head shaking, and down talking does a number to a person’s head; all the years of trying to change me really did work.  I was actually told, time after time, that I needed to act like this, or look like that, and I can say I really developed a pretty deep complex from all of that.   Looking back, I became something I swore I never, ever would.  Changed.  Not myself anymore.  I was what everyone else wanted me to be.  It all happened slowly over a period of time; had it been a quick burst of demanded change I would have probably rebelled, as I should have.  But controlling people are smart.  They know how to gain that control and work people…they know it’s a process.  And it was a process that I was slowly losing myself in.  Bit by bit.
     So how did I change?  I became someone I wasn’t.  I cared what people thought about me too much.  Some concern is good, and natural.  It wasn’t ME though.  If I said anything that was funny, or random, I was chided.  I was looked down on, or chastised.  The point was to hurt me, make me feel belittled, and the point was put across by any means necessary.  All in the name of “making me mature”.  That’s when the real changes in myself started.  My priorities shifted.  I started caring about money.  And what I had.  And the status it gave.  And then I started caring about hiding real life behind the facade of a happy life, like so many do but are afraid to admit to.  It was the snowball effect: every change I felt I had to make for someones happiness, the more the resentment grew.  The anger grew.  The hurt grew.  I was turning into a shell of my self.  All while knowing I would probably never, ever be able to be myself again.  The smile I had hid lots and lots of hurt.  But.  Life happens.  Lessons are learned.  And I’ve moved ahead.  One thing I am more than grateful for is the opportunities to grow and learn from what I can and where I’ve been and get back to being me…slowly.  It was a slow process to change into something I wasn’t…it’s been a slow process getting back.  With the healing love, grace and acceptance of those that really want the best for me and see the beauty in me for what I have to offer, I can slowly learn to trust those that I let the walls down for. 
     Reality hits when you have kids.  I see the beautiful differences the kids have that make them so unique and I want to do everything I can do to protect that in them.  I don’t want the world to beat the compassionate heart, kind and gentle spirit, and loving personality out of Jax.  I worry that Jordy will lose her incredible imagination, her free spirit, and insane sense of humor.  They each have gifts that make them unique.  Gifts that God gave them to equip them to fulfill His purpose.  Not to be molded in to some boring, one-size-fits-all.  God is way more creative than that.
     I realize this is long and probably way more drawn out than it needs to be, but it’s what I felt like needed to be said.  There’s a lot more that could be said; way more to the story and so much between the lines.  I do need to say that this is a culmination of things through my life; not just one person’s actions or from one specific period of time.  I don’t want any kind of assumptions to be made based on one blog post.



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