Your candor in living this, writing it out, and sharing it is….stunning. Not in a "bad way", mind you. I found myself reading it and thinking, "Yep, she's gonna get plastered." (like most folks might) And then, when you called for weed, I was thinking, "Well, dang, she went a bit further than I thought she would!" Then, I didn't think you smoke it. Then I didn't think you'd TELL US you smoked it! But when I kept reading, I found my jaw (which had dropped on the puff-puff-pass part) closing and a smile slowly spreading. And suddenly I saw something in you that I saw (and still see) in myself. If you need proof that what I'm about to say is true, I offer this: I've kicked cancer's ass 4 times (and am currently fighting my 5th fight with it), died 3 times (clinically dead), had one should-have-been-fatal car accident, was beaten (and sexually assaulted), and grew up gay as a two-dollar bill in backwoods Alabama.
YOU are the blessing, Chantelle. Sometimes God puts us through things to teach us something. Sometimes He puts us through things to teach others. There is a young woman out there right now reading this who has been cut from her basketball team and feels useless. Or who's been told she "can't" do something. Someone who feels hopeless, helpless, and stuck. I guarantee you, after reading this, that burden is lifted just a bit…for just a moment.
I used to think God was this being we had to look up to or someone we must beg things out of. Then there were days I questioned that there was anything there at all. Going past Christianity, Catholicism, and every other religion, I can tell you there's got to be something higher than me. Bigger than you. More wonderful than love, sex, good food,…and weed (and definitely better than vodka). The thing is, we all must realize that this "being" isn't detached. It's under your skin.
Every religion on this planet celebrates our connection with the Higher Being (I'll call it God for now). What is lost in translation, sometimes, is that we're a part of it. When you hurt, the body of God hurts with you. When you need strength, the body of God will cover you. And when you need a good beat-down, the body of God will sustain until Truth breaks through.
God doesn't give you more than you can handle because you don't handle it alone. Oh yes, you will feel alone. You will even "see" that you're the only one in the middle of your living room floor, writhing in emotional pain, and crying tears whose sound was choked by fear. But you are not. You were not.
I am living, breathing, very pale-skinned proof that my life does not belong to me. I have had ample reason and opportunity to lose it. But since I know my life doesn't belong to me, I don't have a right to end it. It doesn't just belong to God, mind you. It belongs to a girl in GA who makes me laugh without trying. To a woman who lives in Chi-town and dances like a silly fool—with abandon and very little shame. To a man in Phoenix who shares his life and his humor with a gentle hand and searing eyes (when you're wearing the right top). To a woman who can palm a basketball, strut better than most, and laughs with ease at herself and everything else. To those who read my writing, inspire my designs, and feel my hugs. I do not belong to myself. I am responsible for me…but there are those who trust me to do what I can to be there when they want to laugh, dance, flirt, play ball, read, critique…and need a hug.
And if you ever need to remember that…if you ever need a reason outside yourself to go on, think of one name…one person in your life…any random person. An opponent who's a friend…your dentist…your dad…anyone. And let their life be an example for you. Not things they've done with that life….the fact that they have a life at all. The fact that they breathe. The fact that they might look to you for something, anything, to tell them it's okay to hurt…to cry… to bend. Remember, through them, that the body of God won't let you break. And if you have to….I'm Emily. You can think of me.
Popularity: 3% [?]
The other day I was asked what religion I am. My answer was, "I don't really have a religion." I got a confused look in return and explained that I'm not a church-going person of any particular faith. I am spiritual, not religious. What follows is based SOLELY on my own knowledge and experience and is strictly MY personal belief:
Every religion on Earth, regardless of origin, has 4 basic principles, no matter what entity is in charge of that religion. The power you believe to be "in charge" has a message for you that is at the root of your religion and this is what he/she/it is saying to you:
1. I love you. 2. Be good to yourself and others and the world around you. 3. I'll be with you again some day. 4. It may take a while.
1. I love you.
2. Be good to yourself and others and the world around you.
3. I'll be with you again some day.
4. It may take a while.
Jesus, Buddha, Allah, etc., all have the same 4 messages (as far as I can tell). And I believe that as long as you just believe these 4 things, everything else is up for interpretation. Everything else religion is based on is hearsay. I didn't see the burning bush, did you?
So..yeah…that's what I believe. Comment if'n ya wanna.
Popularity: 2% [?]
Longing… That ache…to feel, to hold, to be felt or held. That clawing need in the pit of your stomach that could almost make you sick..if you could even eat anything. The giddy feeling..the smiles you can't stop..the sighs of contentment. We are all meant to have this..aren't we? Aren't I? Lounging… I have decided to spend all day today in complete silence. Just enjoying the sounds of my cats breathing and my own thoughts. It's been relaxing and very freeing. I hope to keep this up until at least 7pm tonight. Go me! I think I'll light some incense and candles. I might do my smudging. Lust… It burns. Almost as bad as if I'd stuck that most private part of me in some sort of sweltering oven. It's like a seething cauldron..boiling over. I refuse to deny it. It's in graffiti all over my face, hands, & body. It's in my words & in my eyes. I want her & I want her to want me…badly. Leaving… She's gone. My best friend…she's gone. She left with her belongings in a truck and her sister at her side and now I don't know what I'm going to do. All alone with two cats and two bedrooms and no one to talk to. *chewing lip* I'll make it…right? Love… Is a verb. Not something you fall into, or grow from your toes. It's an action that requires some sort of response on your part. When you love someone, make sure it's an active verb and not a passive one. Put your all into it so that you eek every drop you can out of it. It's worth it. Life… It's about change.. and going with the flow. It's about being true to you. But keep in mind that your actions speak louder than your words and if you leave a trail of shit behind you..that's what you'll have to look forward to. Be yourself. Love yourself. Everything else will fall into place.
Through the changes in my life, I'm learning to breathe. To be still and listen to the voices around me. I am learning to accept that situations, love, relationships, circumstances, and even people are fluid…ever-changing. They ebb and flow and grow and shrink. And just because my truth might be one thing doesn't mean that anyone else is going to see it that way. Or that I'm going to see their truth.
This isn't an easy thing to grasp, mind you. I live in a society where there are set "rules" or "standards". There are words and the definitions of those words have pretty strict guidelines. For instance, "reality" where I live, doesn't necessarily include other dimensions or the spirit world. As a matter of fact, anyone who includes other dimensions in their "reality" is considered "special" or "different" and those adjectives aren't used in a positive manner.
And what I have to remember..at all times… is that no matter what anyone else does or says, I am worthy of love. I am loved. I am beautiful. I am a positive experience for the mind, body, and soul. And I will experience love for myself on a level that is beneficial for me and the one who loves me. And when it's truly something that works…and both parties are present and available emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually, then we will ebb and flow through and into each other, creating the beauty of love that I write about. The love that I have always hoped I would find. I will find it. But I must be it before it will come to me.
And so that is my task: Becoming the love that I want to find. Loving myself and the world and my friends and every other thing just the way I want to be loved. Unconditionally and without reservation. Without compromise or settling.
Why do you insist on hurting me? Why can't you just be happy that I've found someone who loves me? Someone who cherishes me the way you weren't? Why can't you swallow your pride, lift your chin, and just be proud that I'm not listening to everyone else's opinions and that I'm living my life for me?
You always told me, growing up, to ignore what other people said to and about me. That if they didn't have anything nice to say about me, they shouldn't be talking. And now, you're the one I have to ignore. Your voice is the one I have to drown out.
But, truthfully, your mother's voice is one that doesn't just speak to your ears. Your mother's voice carries right to your heart. You can't turn off the hearing in your heart. It hears all the things that are said and most of the ones that aren't. It pays attention to facial expressions and changes in tone. It's sensitive to all the nuances of pronunciation and intonation. And my heart hears everything you say…and everything you don't.
You don't have to tell me you hate me…your voice does it for you. You don't have to tell me about the shame you feel when someone asks about your daughter, Emily…your face says it all. You don't have to articulate how disappointed and embarrassed you are that you have a gay daughter…the words you don't speak are loud and clear to my heart.
There's an old saying, "Actions speak louder than words." When you don't come to my wedding…I'll hear you. And if you do come, my heart will know you're there just because you don't want everyone else to talk about how you weren't there. And that the whole time you're here, you'll be praying that no one else sees you.
And you won't cry when I walk down the aisle because you're happy…you'll cry because I'm not walking towards a man. Or perhaps you won't cry at all. The reason won't matter…your tears won't be for the positive changes in my life. They will be the result of your negative attitude and closed mind.
And I'll say it doesn't matter. And I'll pretend it doesn't hurt. And I'll tell you, when you call and say you're not coming, that it's fine and I understand. But really, my heart says for me the things my mouth can't. My heart will break. And it will ache. And it will scream, "Why can't you just fucking love me?" And I'll cry. And I'll wonder what I did wrong. And that little raw spot in my being that you love rubbing against will again be sore and sting.
When I walk down the aisle, I'll cry, too. And most of those tears will be from happiness. But some of them will originate in the place where you've hurt me the most…my soul. The absence of your acceptance is harder to handle than you think. And on the most important day of my life to this point…..my wedding day…..the absence of your love will almost kill the joy of my special day.
Sure, I'll tell people that I'm fine with it. I'll defiantly tell them that I'd rather not have you there if you can't be totally happy for me. And that it doesn't matter if you're there or not, I'll be happy regardless. And I'll smile as I say it. And I'll laugh and joke and giggle. And I'll look good in pictures. And I'll dance, and sing, and we'll have a wonderful day…without you. But somewhere deep down…where no one else can go….where no one else can see….my spirit will wonder exactly what I've done to earn your disgust. What, in my essence or nature or character, is so wrong that I've managed to lose significance in your life. "Why," it will ask, "cant they just love me?"
Since the day I came out to you, September 13, 1999, I haven't had an answer. And on my big day, I won't get one, either. And I'll say today, on that day, and for the rest of my life that it doesn't matter what you think of me….
But it does. And it always will.
Popularity: 1% [?]
