This will take several posts. I simply don't have time to sit down and write out everything at once. So I will do it in bits and pieces. Trying to decide where to begin this is a real challenge. As I said, nothing happens in a vacuum. There have been struggles for quite some time that have shaped or influenced some of my reactions. In fact I have scars from years and years ago that played a vital role in what has gone on in the last year or so. But I don't want anyone's pity here. This isn't about anyone else. It isn't anyone's fault. And I am going to do my very best not to throw anyone else under the bus. This will be difficult in some ways because as I said, you don't really understand my perspective if you don't know the whole story. But the way I figure, I don't really owe anyone an explanation anyhow. So if you don't understand or blame me because you don't know the whole story, that's ok. Just know that you don't know the whole story. I choose not to take anyone down with me. And if anyone dares to say a word blaming anyone else for any of this you will wish you had not. This is about me and me alone. Don't go speculating and putting blame where it doesn't belong. Everyone in this story is a grown up and doing the best they could and I dearly love them. So keep your opinions to yourself and don't go causing trouble.
So with that being said I will start just over a year ago. A couple of things to keep in mind about me. I know personally almost all of my friends on facebook. There are a couple who are friends of friends. But no one random. My Twitter account was the same way at this time. Just a handful of people that I knew personally who followed me. When the Benghazi attacks happened I was having surgery to have my gall bladder removed. I was furious with the response that followed as anyone who was around at the time can attest. I posted a tweet on twitter expressing my frustration and I got my first real taste of what this Twitter thing was all about. Overnight it was retweeted over a thousand times and I suddenly had hundreds of followers who I did not know. I did not attempt to get to know anyone. I don't talk to strangers online. lol. Bad idea. So aside from commenting on a tweet here and there I kept to myself. Stayed mostly to Facebook where I knew everyone.
As most people know I started a workout program the beginning of the year and started trying to get back in shape after multiple surgeries in the past year and four kids. I was so excited about seeing results almost instantly that I posted a couple of photos a couple of weeks in. I posted them on Facebook and on Twitter. I got a few congratulatory comments on my tweet. Nothing crazy. Except this one guy I did not know who then went back through pictures and commented on them as well. Ok. No big deal. Then he sends me a direct message. This startled me. I'd never actually talked to anyone I didn't know online and I didn't want to. But something seemed off. I went to his profile. He said he was a Navy officer. He did not behave like one. He made several outrageous claims in an obvious effort to impress. Unfortunately for him the random girl he picked knew better. I called a friend who has been in the Navy many years. This guy was over the top. Calling me baby or princess in every line. Lying about his service. I was disgusted. He pretended he was deployed to Afghanistan. That he was single because his wife left him during his last deployment. Hadn't ever had kids.
In truth he was living in the states. Married with two little boys. He was in the Navy but had made all kinds of false claims about his service. After much discussion with my friend I had to decide what I was going to do. Did I want to ruin this guy's life? Contact his wife? Let the Navy handle it? I had the ability to wreck this man's entire life. It was an enormous amount of pressure trying to decide how to handle it. I decided I wanted outside advice. Someone who wasn't protective of me. Someone unbiased. An objective opinion. So I told my husband my intentions, gave myself a list of criteria for someone to ask, and went to my now rather lengthy list of Twitter followers. I had no way of knowing everything I thought I knew was about to be turned on its head.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
This is Me.
I have decided that the time has come. The next few posts will be quite painful to write. More painful to share. I will attempt to explain why I feel the need to do this. My intent in writing this is to free myself. I have struggled silently for very long time. I am a firm believer that everyone has their own silent struggles that they fear anyone ever knowing. And that we are quick to judge another's battles while keeping our own hidden away from scrutiny. I write this knowing that it is a near guarantee that I will lose at least half of my "friends" and probably some family. That my reputation with many will likely be ruined. And that nearly all of the people reading this will continue reading these posts simply because they cannot resist the opportunity to find out some dirt on someone else.
I realized something saddening and yet freeing as I began my struggle though. There were literally three people I trusted enough to tell my struggle. Three. And only one with whom I was willing to be completely open when it came to my feelings. I could not tell any of my other friends because I knew they would not understand. Now I may have misjudged some people. I admit that freely. Perhaps I have more true friends than I realize. I think I judged these individuals as being unaccepting because I related to them. I would have been one of them. I would have been the scornful friend. Who would listen in silent shock. Quietly appalled. Amazed that they could be so horribly misled. And then I would impart my expert advice. Because I, of course, knew the truth and they were obviously blinded, so if I could only make them see the error of their ways, life would obviously be better for them. After all, it was my Christian duty to "hold them accountable" to what I "know" to be true, right? It's just accountability. Plain and simple. I'd be doing it in love.
But I have learned this year that things are rarely what they seem. And we cannot understand the path someone else has been made to walk. And that perhaps our truth is a lot more what we would like it to be and not so much reality. And in our quest to be supportive and "speak the truth in love" we become blinded to the individual and the fact that we do not, in fact, know what they are going through. So before I begin my story and air my secrets for all to see, I would first like to apologize to those whom I have harmed with my condescending, self-righteous "love". I truly did have the best of intentions, but I realize now that I cannot know what you wrestle with. And I choose to believe you are doing the best you can with what you have been given. It is not for me to judge your intentions. Maybe I disagree with your actions. But they really aren't for me to decide. Because actions don't take place in a vacuum. They are tied to everything else in your life. And I cannot possibly begin to understand the complexities surrounding the choices you make. It is not for me to decide what you should do. That is between you and God. It is my job to love you and support you and give you a place to land when you fall. For any who remain in my life after reading this, I will endeavor to do that for you.
I fully anticipate an inbox full of well meaning advice and tough love. I will say, though probably in vain, that I do not want your advice. Please do not do this. It will not be read. Only deleted. I do not want your feelings on it. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I do not care. I don't care what you think. Not I don't care about you. I do. I just don't care what you think about me. I know that I have done the very best I could. I know that I have struggled and wept and fallen apart and even considered ending it all because I could not fit the mold that everyone expected me to. I have not flippantly rebelled. I have genuinely tried to do right. But I have learned that is far more complicated than I ever dreamed it could be and that what has been right in my life would be judged as wrong by most people. And so I will attempt to explain the unexplainable. That which I do not even myself understand and certainly do not expect anyone else to. But at least when I am finished I will be able to say I am an open book. That those who love me and stand by me, though they may be few, do so knowing me. No more living a lie or painting a pretty picture. And maybe, just maybe, someone else may decide to be brave. Because keeping things quiet and hidden away doesn't make them any less real. It only means you have to fight them alone and walk around knowing that those who claim to love you don't really know you. I don't want fake friendships. I want to know the dirty, filthy human beings just like me that I share this planet with. Those are the ones I relate to. Those are the ones who realize the beauty of the grace that frees them. Those are the ones that are real enough to show what everyone else has but hides.
For those who will leave, I understand. And I appreciate your lack of pretentiousness. For those who will reiterate how much they love me and won't leave, but will whisper quietly behind my back and tell all their friends sadly how much I need prayer...yes. I do. So do you. And I pity you. How awful must it be to be so desperate to not have to take a close look at your own life that you somehow have time to scrutinize what you believe to be wrong with someone else's. I know it will happen. I just ask that you do not do so within earshot of my children (they do not deserve to be punished for what you hold against me) or myself (because I may lose my temper and will not be held responsible for what I may say or do in reaction to your "concern") I would much prefer you just walk away and don't bother pretending to be one who will stand beside me. I don't need you. Just go. For those who will stay. Genuinely stay. Who, like the few friends I have who do know, say "I know you. I love you. I believe what you are telling me. I can see your struggle. And I am here beside you come what may," bless you. And I will do my best to be that kind of friend in return.
I realized something saddening and yet freeing as I began my struggle though. There were literally three people I trusted enough to tell my struggle. Three. And only one with whom I was willing to be completely open when it came to my feelings. I could not tell any of my other friends because I knew they would not understand. Now I may have misjudged some people. I admit that freely. Perhaps I have more true friends than I realize. I think I judged these individuals as being unaccepting because I related to them. I would have been one of them. I would have been the scornful friend. Who would listen in silent shock. Quietly appalled. Amazed that they could be so horribly misled. And then I would impart my expert advice. Because I, of course, knew the truth and they were obviously blinded, so if I could only make them see the error of their ways, life would obviously be better for them. After all, it was my Christian duty to "hold them accountable" to what I "know" to be true, right? It's just accountability. Plain and simple. I'd be doing it in love.
But I have learned this year that things are rarely what they seem. And we cannot understand the path someone else has been made to walk. And that perhaps our truth is a lot more what we would like it to be and not so much reality. And in our quest to be supportive and "speak the truth in love" we become blinded to the individual and the fact that we do not, in fact, know what they are going through. So before I begin my story and air my secrets for all to see, I would first like to apologize to those whom I have harmed with my condescending, self-righteous "love". I truly did have the best of intentions, but I realize now that I cannot know what you wrestle with. And I choose to believe you are doing the best you can with what you have been given. It is not for me to judge your intentions. Maybe I disagree with your actions. But they really aren't for me to decide. Because actions don't take place in a vacuum. They are tied to everything else in your life. And I cannot possibly begin to understand the complexities surrounding the choices you make. It is not for me to decide what you should do. That is between you and God. It is my job to love you and support you and give you a place to land when you fall. For any who remain in my life after reading this, I will endeavor to do that for you.
I fully anticipate an inbox full of well meaning advice and tough love. I will say, though probably in vain, that I do not want your advice. Please do not do this. It will not be read. Only deleted. I do not want your feelings on it. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I do not care. I don't care what you think. Not I don't care about you. I do. I just don't care what you think about me. I know that I have done the very best I could. I know that I have struggled and wept and fallen apart and even considered ending it all because I could not fit the mold that everyone expected me to. I have not flippantly rebelled. I have genuinely tried to do right. But I have learned that is far more complicated than I ever dreamed it could be and that what has been right in my life would be judged as wrong by most people. And so I will attempt to explain the unexplainable. That which I do not even myself understand and certainly do not expect anyone else to. But at least when I am finished I will be able to say I am an open book. That those who love me and stand by me, though they may be few, do so knowing me. No more living a lie or painting a pretty picture. And maybe, just maybe, someone else may decide to be brave. Because keeping things quiet and hidden away doesn't make them any less real. It only means you have to fight them alone and walk around knowing that those who claim to love you don't really know you. I don't want fake friendships. I want to know the dirty, filthy human beings just like me that I share this planet with. Those are the ones I relate to. Those are the ones who realize the beauty of the grace that frees them. Those are the ones that are real enough to show what everyone else has but hides.
For those who will leave, I understand. And I appreciate your lack of pretentiousness. For those who will reiterate how much they love me and won't leave, but will whisper quietly behind my back and tell all their friends sadly how much I need prayer...yes. I do. So do you. And I pity you. How awful must it be to be so desperate to not have to take a close look at your own life that you somehow have time to scrutinize what you believe to be wrong with someone else's. I know it will happen. I just ask that you do not do so within earshot of my children (they do not deserve to be punished for what you hold against me) or myself (because I may lose my temper and will not be held responsible for what I may say or do in reaction to your "concern") I would much prefer you just walk away and don't bother pretending to be one who will stand beside me. I don't need you. Just go. For those who will stay. Genuinely stay. Who, like the few friends I have who do know, say "I know you. I love you. I believe what you are telling me. I can see your struggle. And I am here beside you come what may," bless you. And I will do my best to be that kind of friend in return.
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