Well, well, well. It is November yet again..yet another year. My birthday is fast approaching, and it's going to come and go quickly, and another year will zip by and before you know it, I'm fifty years old. Folks, I will be twenty-seven pretty shortly here and that is so CLOSE to the big three-oh. I remember (barely!) when that age seemed so old and ancient. And now that I'm getting up there in age, I'm disliking the me that thought this age was decrepit. How rude! Honestly though, I don't feel a day over twenty years-old. Aside from the knees going brittle and stiff, the leg pains, mild back pains here and there, weak bladder, fine lines, dryer skin, thinning, graying hair...yeah, not a day over twenty!! And as I'm proofreading this (because I proofread every 10 seconds into each entry), I've realized my memory might be failing slightly because if I recollect correctly, I will actually be twenty-eight!!!! GET OUT! I doubted for a second, re-did the math, and yes, twenty-eight is the final number.
My early twenties were a blur. From the year 20 and forward, I was a crazy mess. Barely hanging on in college, reckless, partying too much, and oblivious to anyone else's needs yet such a pathetic people pleaser. I was not a person of my own. Made decisions on misguided whim and based my happiness on THINGS. I got married at 22. And it was a bittersweet time. I reveled in what I thought was love...and maybe it was but I was so vulnerable and naive, it could have been anything. Like the old adage or phrase: looking for love in all the wrong places. We were young; we were dazzling. We were careless; we were wasteful. We made decisions that risked our lives. And ultimately, my influence was of consequence to myself and my family. But that didn't stop me. I became worse. I truly believed God hated me and had no use of me whatsoever. I had lowered my standards and accepted a lifestyle I thought I had already decided against. I was still consumed with myself but not even what was best for me...just what was easy, fun, and pleasurable. But then at age 24, my miracle arrived. Beforehand, we had struggled to get pregnant and experienced a devastating miscarriage. It wrecked my mind even more (because after Dallace's passing, I was quite looney). We tried again and we got pregnant after 6 grueling months of trying. About a year later, we wanted to try again. No such luck. I had 5 consecutive miscarriages and all of them did something to my heart, my mind, and my soul. I think I kind of shut down. I quite working and stayed home and consumed myself with Isaac. And I was filled with anger, resentment, and so much pain and guilt. I felt absolutely worthless and inadequate. I literally hated and loathed myself. And that is the truth. I gained 70 pounds and stopped hanging out with friends. Barely saw my own family. Basically, became a reclusive stay at home mom.
Right around 26 years-old, my EX decided he wanted out. He decided that I was of no worth either. And he was done and there was nothing I could say or do to make him change his mind. He checked out but left me my one saving grace...lil man. And here I am. Twenty-seven. Lost 50 pounds. I am writing again. It seems I am moving back to the times before I started making unwise choices. I am back at my old work place. I am bunking with a brother. I am going to church again and praying more than I've ever prayed in my life. It feels like I'm moving back home. To heal. To grow. To strengthen. To re-do.
So this year I have been even more active in church. Even accepted a calling to work with the young women in our congregation ages 12-18 kind of like a mentor but more. Working with these young girls has made me realize how wrong my perception of myself used to be. The worth of every person truly is great. EVERY person. Not just the people we like. Or the people we surround ourselves with. Or the people who are good to us. Every single human being that exists, did exist, will ever exist are all important. Yes, that sounds corny but it's such a simple truth that all of us forget...ALL the time.
Anywho...like an old person, I've been reflective and thoughtful on these matters.
My early twenties were a blur. From the year 20 and forward, I was a crazy mess. Barely hanging on in college, reckless, partying too much, and oblivious to anyone else's needs yet such a pathetic people pleaser. I was not a person of my own. Made decisions on misguided whim and based my happiness on THINGS. I got married at 22. And it was a bittersweet time. I reveled in what I thought was love...and maybe it was but I was so vulnerable and naive, it could have been anything. Like the old adage or phrase: looking for love in all the wrong places. We were young; we were dazzling. We were careless; we were wasteful. We made decisions that risked our lives. And ultimately, my influence was of consequence to myself and my family. But that didn't stop me. I became worse. I truly believed God hated me and had no use of me whatsoever. I had lowered my standards and accepted a lifestyle I thought I had already decided against. I was still consumed with myself but not even what was best for me...just what was easy, fun, and pleasurable. But then at age 24, my miracle arrived. Beforehand, we had struggled to get pregnant and experienced a devastating miscarriage. It wrecked my mind even more (because after Dallace's passing, I was quite looney). We tried again and we got pregnant after 6 grueling months of trying. About a year later, we wanted to try again. No such luck. I had 5 consecutive miscarriages and all of them did something to my heart, my mind, and my soul. I think I kind of shut down. I quite working and stayed home and consumed myself with Isaac. And I was filled with anger, resentment, and so much pain and guilt. I felt absolutely worthless and inadequate. I literally hated and loathed myself. And that is the truth. I gained 70 pounds and stopped hanging out with friends. Barely saw my own family. Basically, became a reclusive stay at home mom.
So this year I have been even more active in church. Even accepted a calling to work with the young women in our congregation ages 12-18 kind of like a mentor but more. Working with these young girls has made me realize how wrong my perception of myself used to be. The worth of every person truly is great. EVERY person. Not just the people we like. Or the people we surround ourselves with. Or the people who are good to us. Every single human being that exists, did exist, will ever exist are all important. Yes, that sounds corny but it's such a simple truth that all of us forget...ALL the time.
Anywho...like an old person, I've been reflective and thoughtful on these matters.
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