… not me, my skeletons!

I’ve known since 2011 that I am called to tell my story. I’ve know longer than that but it was in 2011 that it became impossible to ignore. 

That was 15 years ago.
And though I have tried different avenues to do so, none of them seemed to stick. 

Why?

Because I was afraid:
I would mess up.
I would say something stupid.
I would make people upset with me.
I would be attacked for speaking my truth.
I would be treated differently by people I know.

Then I realized something.

All of these things are already true! 

I mess up all the time.
I say stupid things constantly.
People get mad at me for saying what I’m thinking.
People try to attack my positivity and authenticity.
People treat me differently than they do other people. 

Luckily, I have a teeny tiny group of people that:
Take the time to get to know me.
Love me for me.
Accept my past.
Ask questions first — never assume.

All of these things may have stopped me from telling my story in the past, but they never stopped the calling that was so vividly placed on my heart in 2011. 

The truth is, it just looks different than I thought it would.

I thought I was supposed to shout my entire story from the rooftops and tell as many people as possible. 
Over the years I’ve realized that is not what my calling was ever about.

God has placed several people in my life in many different ways and at many different times.
Not for me to pour my entire story into their lap, but to use my story to connect with them in a way that maybe only I can. 

Some of those moments have been brief — like a random conversation waiting in line at a coffee shop.
Other moments have resulted in lifelong friendships with people who may never fully understand me, but love me regardless.

My calling, simply put:
To love the unlovable. 

And what that means to me is this:
To tell my story to people like me, so they don’t feel so alone in theirs.
To love people that are hard to love because they feel undeserving of love.
To live my life authentically for me — no more living my life to make everyone else feel comfortable.

For most of my life I have felt unlovable. 
It has taken years of EMDR therapy, hard conversations, self-reflection, and continued healing to finally be in a place where I can say — and fully believe — that:
I am lovable.
I deserve to be loved.
I am capable of loving and being loved.

People may choose not to love me but that does not make me unlovable. 

It just means they are not meant to be a part of my tiny circle. 
And that’s okay. 

So as I let my skeletons come out of the closet, I am ready to face the people who would rather they stayed hidden. 
I am ready to have uncomfortable conversations that need to be had. 
I am prepared for people to walk out of my life because my skeletons make them feel uncomfortable. 

I am not saying it doesn’t hurt, because it does. 
Doing what I feel is right has never been easy and I don’t expect this to be any different. 

To the people in my tiny circle:
Thank you.
I know with all my heart that God placed you in my life.
Without you, I honestly don’t know where I would be. 

To the people that see my skeletons and get some kind of comfort or maybe feel just a little less alone:
You are the reason I let them out.
You make having skeletons worth something.

To those that will walk away because of them — or because it makes you feel uncomfortable: 
I don’t blame you.
I have no ill will towards you.
I truly wish you nothing but the best — just from a distance.
But if my skeletons make you uncomfortable, try and imagine silently carrying them around for decades.

And of course —
To my skeletons:
Who would have known, you are not big and scary out in the light.

---

— sorry NOT sorry —

---