Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Get where I'm coming from?

“She is messy, but she’s kind; she is lonely most of the time. She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie… She is gone, but she used to be mine” -Sarah Bareilles, She Used to Be Mine
            I live in a small town called Conformity, which is the capital of Happy. I am everything you’d expect me to be outwardly: modest, successful, resilient, happy. Stressed in all the right ways, focused, driven, spiritual, friendly, imperfect, supportive daughter/sister/RA/friend/whatever-you-need-me-to-be. Content to be single and first pick for the friend-zone team.
            They say this is where I’m from. But they don’t know I forged my birth certificate.
            I can’t tell people my true origins.
            I can’t disappoint people like that. I have learned I must be selfless, so I’ll listen while you talk and never weigh you down with my own baggage. I’ll be there for you through everything and we’ll thrive together in Conformity, Happy for the rest of our days.
            “Is this home? Is this where I should learn to be happy? Never dreamed that a home could be dark and cold. I was told every day in my childhood, even when we grow old: Home will be where the heart is, never were words so true. My heart’s far, far away- home is too.” -Home, Beauty and the Beast the Musical
            I try not to remember Hidden. I try not to remember Brainwashed. I try not to remember Used. I try not to remember Broken. Those places often star in my dreams, taunt me when I zone out or lose focus or when my strength starts to wane. I always think I’m past those horrible places, but somehow they keep coming back.
            Hidden. A place where regardless of my efforts, regardless of my achievements, regardless of my progress, I am largely unrecognized and shunted to the background. A place where my best friend is always superior and a place where I should be content, but for some reason I’m just not. Because I’ve spent SO MUCH TIME HERE. I am from Hidden. And I don’t want to be.
            Brainwashed. A place where a ten-year-old can be told she needs to lose weight because she’s bigger than the rest of the girls on her gymnastics team. A place where pain doesn’t matter until it’s a matter of life or death. A place where I spent eight years of my life, wondering why I felt like there was something missing until I finally looked at it from the outside. A place where other friends don’t tend to invite you to anything because you train 7 hours a day, five days a week. I am from Brainwashed. And I wish I’d realized where I was before it became too late.
            Used. Such an ugly place. I thought I had been through so much in this life; I had no idea that something so painful could come in such an appealing package. A place where promises in moments of heated emotion have no intention to be kept. A place where the word ‘no’ loses its meaning. A place where visible fear is taken to mean ‘more please.’ A place where I feel unsafe and suffocated and dirty and helpless and… A place where he didn’t even think twice. A place where he still says hi to me as if nothing happened, as if he doesn’t know the panic his proximity causes me. A place that has forced me to learn how to trust again- I’m still working on it. I am from Used. And I’m still trying to figure out how to leave for good.
            Broken. A place where it is so easy to look whole. A place where literal and metaphorical ideas are both completely accurate. A place where a spine cracks due to years of misuse, a place where ten doctors had differing opinions on how to fix it (though they all were pretty much unhelpful and frankly rude). A place where the one who was finally willing to help changed my life for one easy installment of thousands of dollars, a full year of recovery, two titanium rods, and four screws. A place where depression and anxiety are rampant simply because they know you will wait to do anything about them until it’s nearly too late. I am from Broken. And all the king’s horses and all the king’s men might need a little more help.
            But.
            Before Broken, before Used, before Brainwashed, before Hidden, before Conformity-
I am from Heaven.
            “I am a child of God, and He has sent me here. Has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear. Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, help me find the way- teach me all that I must do to live with Him someday.”
            Heaven. A place where I knew all of these things would happen to me, but I still decided it was worth it. A place that is beautiful, peaceful, pure. A place where I knew my worth, my strengths, my weaknesses. A place where the fact that I’m ‘too innocent’ is actually a good thing. A place where I knew without a shadow of a doubt I would return to soon. A place where I knew my Heavenly Father, spoke to my Savior. A place I can’t wait to get back to. A place that I visit in times of hardship and pain. A place I will stop at nothing to return to. A place I don’t remember, but I know is real. A place that never ends.
            I am from Heaven.

            And nothing can change that.