I received my car a couple months shy of my 20th birthday. It was my father's--dusted off and tuned up after over a year of sitting in the garage of my house. I didn't want it per se; I guess you can say it sort of "fell" into my lap. It took me a while to get adjusted to the idea of driving around in my father's car. I had mixed emotions. I went from happy that I had this piece of him personally, but sad that this personal piece was in light of his death. I settled with being grateful that I had it, and become very protective of it. If someone slammed the door too hard or left crumbs on the seat or if I scratched it, it would send me reeling. Forget anyone driving it! I can still count on one hand how many people I've let drive it in the last 5 years I've had it. Once I got into an accident, and ended up needing a new bumper. I stood crying in the middle of Pep Boys and couldn't even talk as the mechanic asked me why I wanted the scrap bumper they took off the car.
Needless to say, my car is super meaningful to me. As I waited for my food in the McDonald's drive-through (don't judge me!) two nights ago, I looked up and opened my sunroof, and was reminded of another layer of meaning. There, on the inside of the sunroof, was the inscription of the nicknames my ex and I used for each other, written on a winter night, as the heat within the car caused fog on the cold windows. I smiled when I saw it, and simultaneously grieved for what I no longer had.
I was reminded of the sanctuary my car has been to me over the years. I have been through so much in the confines of those four doors. I have bawled my eyes out, trying to release the soul-aching pain I felt so often. Yet, I have literally screamed with joy, at the receipt of good news. I have doubted that God loved me and was concerned about me, and yet, I have been reminded of His faithfulness. I have sang songs at the top of my lungs, yet sat in silence when it felt like I had no song to sing. I have went to spiritual war on behalf of my loved ones, yet listened to their prayers when I couldn't formulate the words. I could go on and on, but my point isn't about my car. It's really about how my car has literally been the vehicle (ha!) to truth. As I delve deeper into finding and embracing my truth in the present, I am reminded that it is possible no matter how hard it seems or how painful it is. I can be honest about my fears, dreams, hopes, doubts, etc. outside of those four doors.
So I'll be honest about them on this page. Some days I miss who I was. Some days I regret letting hurt stop me from developing and sustaining friendships and relationships. Some days my heart is warmed by people who desire relationships with me. Some days I am ashamed of ways that I gave in fleshy desires, and ways that I lowered or eliminated my standards. Some days I pat myself on the back for ending things that no longer served me. Some days I don't feel loved. Some days the love that I get isn't enough. Some days I am absolutely in love with myself. Some days I am angry at God. Some days I doubt that His plan is good. Some days I don't feel worth it. Some days I feel alone. Some days I feel empty. Some days I am super proud of who I've become. Some days I really miss my ex-boyfriend. Some days I still want to marry him and have chocolate babies. Some days I feel like I still haven't accomplished enough. Some days missing my father drowns me. Some days I look at my mother in fear that she'll leave me too soon. Some days I wish I was a better sibling. Some days I'm unsure about what I'm doing and if I'm doing the right thing. Some days I am satisfied. Some days I wish I was "normal". Some days I want to say the truth. Some days I don't. But. This day, I am. And for all the future days of my life, I will.
For too long I've looked at "some days" like only "my days" but I'm not the only one. If there is anything this journey is teaching me, it's that lighter is better. Embracing what hurts-- the shame, fear, pain, etc. and honoring it so that we can let it go is essential. Writing helped. Therapy helped (will write post on that later). Friends helped. Praying helped. Reading scriptures helped. But it wasn't until I was honest, until I said the "some days" out loud, and risked "the worst possible reaction" that I began to heal. I'm not fully there yet, but I'm lighter. With the way my life set up right now, God, with His strategic self, was like "oh no baby, there's a strict baggage allowance on this flight--you gon' have to leave something behind". LOL! But I'm glad I am leaving something behind. I got no time for delays, extra fees and tired shoulders.
So, be free y'all. One "some day" at a time. You're worth it. <3
Until next time,