Have you ever seen a greyhound race in a movie or on T.V. per say? These Remarkable dogs fly forth from their gate, chasing some fake looking chicken thing on a stick, while it automatically keeps a pace above the creatures following closely behind.
This has been me most of my life, in a lone race, trying to catch, 'acceptance'. Only to run in circles, never able to latch on to that word. Much too much time and energy I have spent on my outer appearance. Painfully I've watched as my scale tipped up and down with the fluctuations of my weight. Remembering the unintentional, yet hurtful words pertaining to my weight gain throughout the years to present day. So, here I am, running to past recordings I'm playing out in my head, and chasing after a false pretense of the word. Striving for something that I already have. Something which was given to me what seems to be a lifetime ago, by the One Whom matters most! 'TRUE ACCEPTANCE'!
Have you ever noticed that when someone hurts you, whether intentionally or not, can open an old familiar wound that produces an even greater sting. This has happened throughout the course of my life. Since I was a little girl.
In the little elementary school I attended, Mr. Johnson, my fifth grade teacher, was an older, gruff of a man that intimidated me immensely. In his classroom were of course the normal rows of desks you'd find throughout all the other classrooms. But, these four to five rows were not normal at all. Each row, each desk, was filled accordingly by the 'smartest' student to the 'dumbest' student. And the student with the lowest grade, their's was the very last desk in the very last row. I never left that last row. But, oh how I dreamt of doing so. Horrified, I even made it to the last desk. I cannot tell you how dark those days were for me at that little school, but I can tell you that I am still fighting those, 'demons of stupidity'.
In fact, I was so deeply wounded by that and many other instances such as bullying, being told how ugly I am, ... that when my High School Literature teacher held me after class to commend me on my excellent writing ability, and if I allowed, would love to show this to his publisher, as he himself had published work. Though deeply honored. my answer was, "Thank you so much, but no thank you." Why?!! Because I still could hear Mr. Johnson's voice and many others in the still corners of my mind. Finally, here I am 30 yrs. after refusing my Lit teacher, and I am writing! Sharing my heart thoughts and stories with you. Hoping you and others will glean from them.
I would like to close with this. There is an incredibly profound song in the movie, 'The Greatest Showman', called, 'This is Me'. "I'm not a stranger to the dark. Hide away, they say, 'Cause we don't want your broken parts. I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars. Run away, they say. No one will love you as you are. But I won't let them break me down to dust. I know that there's a place for us. For we are glorious! When the sharpest words wanna cut me down. I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out. I am brave, I am proof, I am who I'm meant to be, this is me.....I'm not scared to be seen, I make no apologies, this is me...... Another round of bullets hits my skin. Well, fire away 'cause today, I won't let the shame sink in. We are bursting through the barricades. And reach above the sun (we are warriors). Yeah, that's what we'll become. But I won't let them break me down to dust. I know that there's a place for us. For we are glorious!....And I know that I deserve your love. There's nothing I'm not worthy of! This is ME!
