The topic of religion, or rather the existence of a higher power, often sparks an argument. I read something on someone’s tumblr (mind you I enjoy this persons tumblr), they stated “all those times there was only one set of foot prints in the sand it wasn’t Jesus who was carrying me, those foot prints were mine”. Of course this is a reference to the ‘poem’ foot prints in the sand. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s basically just a story about a person walking on a beach with images of their life playing, the person asks God. “Why when my life was the hardest is there only one set of foot prints”…God replies “because I was carrying you”. In my youth I found strength through that poem, it made me feel less lonely. As I grew older and moved away from my catholic faith, this feeling of emptiness grew in me. I renewed my faith so to say but not for the catholic religion. I came to the conclusion that without the belief of a higher power, personally, existence was meaningless. If all we have is self, all anyone has is self, we lose humanity. We lose some semblance of moral conscience. To me every God from every religion is God, we all just use different names. To me God is the sun in the sky, the grass I walk on, the air that sustains me. Where most religions lose people is they want to give God human characteristics. God cannot be angry or vengeful because these are petty human emotions. God is not the master of your fate, you are, God just made a universe where you could chose your fate. And personally I just chose to call God that name because well it’s the name I grew up him. God, Allah, Para Brahman…to me it’s all the same. I’m not saying I’m stronger because I chose to have faith; all I’m saying is that faith gives me strength.
I’ve always wanted to write a story based on my life. Do I think my life is any more extraordinary then anyone else’s? No. It does however, feel like a way to get it off my chest. To let the pain go. It seems on here I can be the most honest, I have no fear of rejection or of hurting anyone because this is just for me so here we go…..
I moved from Virginia to Florida when I was ten. My dad got a job opportunity down here and in a few months my family became Floridians. This caused tension between my mother and father because my mom hated it here. My brother became a drug addict and my sister lost herself in her studies. I remember the nights you could hear them screaming at one another, the nights I felt so alone, the nights I would cut myself because there was this pain inside me and I had to make it physical. The things I did for approval from others, like eating my “friend” out and having her do the same. The shame and the guilt that it carried for me, all for approval. Trying again and again to make myself what everyone else wanted. Freshman year of high school I met this boy. Oh was he something special, I saw him and I fell in love with him. He broke my heart four months later, and to win him back I became a punk rocker. I dyed and chopped of my hair, listened to the music, knew it in and out, wore the clothes, spoke the language but it changed nothing. In that time I lost myself. He walked back into my life very unexpectedly at a time when I was dating someone who was abusive. To be quite honest I had never really gotten over that boy I met freshman year at a foot ball game, I’m not sure I’m over him to this day. My point is I found worth through the acceptance of men. Whether it was giving my first blowjob the summer before my freshman year of highschool because I knew that’s what my boyfriend at the time wanted. To losing my virginity at 16 in the front seat of a mustang because well everyone was doing it and I wanted that man to love me. However, like most, after that first heart break I had never learned to give myself fully to anyone. I had never learned to put my guard down. I had never learned who I was to be confident enough that anyone who I loved earned a prize in me. We are all jewels to be cherished as corny as that sounds. No one else in this entire world can be who we are. Fast forward and I dated that boy again for four years. This love story does not have a happy ending.
We started dating again and my world was complete, I was complete. He was my sun and my moon, the oxygen that sustained me, or so I thought. Eight months into it I find out he’s talking to someone he met online, you know the kind of dirty talk that should only be exchanged by lovers. The immensity of the realization that I wasn’t all he wanted broke my heart, it made me physically ill. This is not an excuse for anything I have done but this is certainly what started the ball rolling on that. I lost faith and trust in that relationship but stayed in it because well who was I without him. I turned that pain into anger, I never let it go. I cheated on him with my best friend, his best friend, strangers, men who were volatile to my existence. I did it for revenge, for approval, just for everything wrong. He moved to LA for awhile and I’m sure he may have cheated on me too. Originally I had wanted to write about these boys or men but I figured something out, they weren’t what was important. What mattered and still matters is who I become from it, how much I let my past interfere with my future.
Needless to say we took a break that never ended. At the most unexpected place, with the most unexpected person I started to like someone. Enough in fact to cut ties with the boy from my past, who haunts me in my dreams even to this day. I even fell in love with this person, although I’m not sure wholly. I don’t know how to give my all again, well because the first time and the only time it hurt with such force I thought I had lost my soul and my heart.
What is logical? I find myself sitting on my bed depressed…questioning everything. If we are the masters of our own fate, then why when bad things occur, do we consistently look elsewhere to place the blame? “Oh well I had a shitty day and it’s because this happened and that happened” etc. Well all mighty master of your destiny have you ever stopped to ask yourself “why did I choose to make this day shit, why did I let the negativity get me?” If I know who I want to be, why do I do everything to stop myself from becoming that person…..and even so If I don’t know who I want to be why do I take the destructive path to figure it out? You know what irritates me the most though….why is everyone so inconsiderate? I hate feeling hurt, I hate being vulnerable because exposing yourself like that leads to one of two things….either it’s amazing or it’s the worst pain you’ll ever know. It’s heartache. I have no idea who I am, or why sometimes I choose to lie instead of tell the truth. Or why I always push away and why I make sure that if I might get hurt I hurt the other person first. When did I become a shitty person? When did I lose my morals? And why if I recognize it can’t I change it. People tell me all the time that I’m a beautiful person, that I’m nice and considerate and caring and stunning. In actuality though I’m really not these things. I think maybe I just put on a good front. So I’m going on a spiritual journey because my soul needs to be reminded of its humanity.
