Looking Back and Fighting Forward

A writer friend I hadn’t seen in a few months recently asked how my writing was going, and I found myself over-explaining why I hadn’t written much this year. I explained that I replaced the time I’d normally spend writing learning how to put a website together, how to use Canva, etc.

Starting a business is challenging, so I devoted a lot of time to learning how to do many basic, necessary things while also pursuing my doctorate. My reasons are valid and true, but what’s also true is that I’ve missed writing.

I had already been thinking about how much I’d missed expressing my words on my blog before my friend asked about my progress. I started writing a book, stopped, started again, and then attended a workshop on “how to get a publishing deal” which basically left me feeling discouraged because I wasn’t ready to invest several thousand dollars for them to guide me into publishing a book. I gave myself a timeline to come back to the book and hope to accomplish that goal by the time I earn my doctorate, but recently I realized that something feels missing and it’s writing.

I often lament how blogs aren’t really a thing anymore, yet this little website I built has space for one. And when I started writing, I did it for myself. Maybe it’s okay to start there again, and maybe it’s okay to be content with being well-spoken even if not popular on the internet.

It might sound absurd to someone who isn’t a writer, but writing is like my first love. Throughout my life, I wrote when I didn’t know what else to do or when it felt like I had no one to talk to. It has been a source of incredible healing for me over the last twenty years or so, perhaps longer, so I’m making more room for it in my life again. And the timing couldn’t be better.

Recently, after months of putting it off, I went through a box of items that my mom sent home with Michael for me when she started cleaning out her house to sell it. I didn’t realize how much I dreaded looking back at some of my old memories until I started crying when he brought them inside while cleaning out the trunk of his car.

I have some happy memories from the first half of my life, but I also have some pretty significant unhappy ones that I don’t want or need to celebrate. After an internal debate, I went through them, and I cried so many tears – tears of sadness, relief, and gratitude.

There were letters written to me, letters I’d written, and lots of pictures, and as I perused the items in the box, I thought back to who I was in those years from my high school graduation into my 20s. I read some painful words I had written and remembered the hopelessness I felt as I smiled at the camera while secretly wishing I was invisible or worse.

I was sad for the girl I was back then – the girl who thought she was unlovable, who thought she needed to be someone else to be worthwhile, who didn’t like herself or didn’t see her uniqueness as a gift.

As I journaled and prayed about it the following, I came up with some thoughts that I wish I could share with that old version of me, which inspired my latest Instagram post.

If I could go back in time and encourage myself, here’s what I’d say:

• It won’t always be this way. I know it hurts so much right now, but you’re eventually going to turn to God. He’s going to comfort you and heal every part of your heart that’s aching right now.

• The things you dream about won’t always feel impossible.

• Those desires in your heart are going to come to fruition. It’s going to look different for you than you think, but you’ll like it more that way once you get there.

As I looked at a picture of my sister and me smiling around the time of her college graduation, I remember thinking that it was too late for me…that I’d never earn a bachelor’s degree, that I’d never get married because if I ever let anyone know me, they couldn’t possibly like me.

And it would be years later that I realized all those self-defeating thoughts were trash. Now I’m married and earning a doctorate with other diplomas and certifications on the wall of the house I own with my husband who knows me better than anyone and chooses me every day as I choose him.

• You don’t have to be someone else to be valuable.

Earlier I said that writing felt like my first love because, for a long time, I didn’t have friends. It’s not because people didn’t try to befriend me but rather because I firmly believed if they knew me they wouldn’t like me. And I wasn’t exactly wrong in that assessment. I wasn’t empathetic or trustworthy. I kept people at arm’s length, even my bestie from middle school, who thankfully, withstood all my years of self-doubt, loathing, and stupidity, and still considers me a close friend. Love you, Rashell!

I started healing in my late 20’s, and now, in my early 40’s, I sincerely like myself and can say that without needing to qualify it. I am trustworthy, and I recognize that my unique traits are a gift. It’s fun when people like me, but I won’t compromise who I am to entice them to do so. And what I’ve found over the years is that when I like and respect myself, others typically do too. I’ve also learned that when they don’t, I’m still okay.

There are people in the world whom I’ve hurt, who don’t believe forgiveness is an option, and I respect that even though I now understand that withholding forgiveness leads to anger and bitterness. That’s not the life I want.

• You’re going to feel safe.

I know you feel uncertain, and that fear takes up a lot of space in your mind right now, but you’re going to experience peace that you cannot even fathom right now. God’s going to show you how unwavering and faithful he is to you. He’s going to help you see that you’re whole and complete in Him, and then you’re going to marry Michael who will never intentionally hurt you. He’ll comfort you when you hear gunshots or construction on the bridge nearby that sounds like gunshots, and you will never have to hide from him or wear a mask.

As I look back, I feel sad for the girl I was, but I also feel relieved and grateful to be the person I am now.

I’m the girl who likes herself and who encourages others to like themselves.

I’m the girl who gets her hopes up because I’ve seen God do what was impossible for people in my life.

I’m the girl who writes because it’s healing for her and because she hopes to encourage someone else through her vulnerability.

I’m the girl who’s filled with hope and determined to celebrate wins even while hoping to make more progress.

I’m the girl I was born to be.