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Monday, February 7, 2022

02-07-2020 Growing up a Fu*k Up

 

So, I have always walked to my own beat and will continue to. As a child, and not sure at what point it happen or whether it was ever mine to own. I just didn’t understand the rules that were placed on me. I didn’t fit in or walk with the understanding that being who I was, was not ok. I didn’t listen, I didn’t follow the rules or act in the right way that was acceptable. There are all these rules and limitations that I just did not understand or even explained to me.

I was expected to be something that I wasn’t. I made too much noise, or play too loudly, spoke when I was not supposed, not quiet enough, or not be seen. I made messes and walk on the grass and pick the flowers that were mine to take. I played in trees and climb them and fell from them too. I didn’t understand what the big deal was. I followed my brother when he tried to outride me with his bike. I like to explore and read and when there were no books JCPenney’s catalog would have to do.

I tried to fit in and my ways by being that helpful child, jump when I called to be. I stood up and put on the brave face when I just wanted to be left alone. I would stay in my room or go wander the woods and sit by the crick, which was just run-off water to just be in nature.  With life just teaming around me. There were no problems, no worries, no one to tell that I was doing it wrong.

The constant expectation of not being enough or doing it wrong and extremes of freedom to strict structure with no real variants between, my way or the highway. Even with a paper bag in hand sitting on the step because I did something so long ago that I have no memory of to the cause as to why. Or the multiple times that I just didn’t want to eat what was served for dinner because of what it looked like, smelled like, or just nasty.

All the time that I went to the food store as a child and wondered why there were fresh fruits and vegetables that we never ate except out of a can, and we only ate the potatoes and onions out of all those colors of what was there. At that point, I had been programmed to not question and challenge because of the reasons listed above and more.

It has taken me a long time to understand the impact that those words, actions and school, society places on anyone, financial constraints, to keeping up with the Jones or comparing every bit and piece of myself that comes up to be looked at. What having a religion or not having when given the opportunity to learn for myself.

Going to Sunday school church and not who this man was or why he was so important. Not knowing bible stories or even heard of them. All these things impacted my mind and life to what or who I should be. It really did matter who I was, there were labels and actions that spoke volumes to the point that you forget who you are, and you don’t remember what part of the story is yours or someone else.

The memories are muddled with bits and pieces like lost thoughts between mixed thoughts of what is real and what is not. The hole has been deep and when I wanted to just stay there because the words were arrows that I could not escape. Pretending to be invisible or walking on the ceiling with a mirror in hand when I think the world is upside down and backward all at the same time.

I had to learn to step back and relearn the truths, lies, and deception of what is less than truth. I knew that truth as a child and quite slowly and consistently, the world and people told me my story of who I was supposed to be when my heart was trying to tell me the truth that I knew and felt. Even on days that I doubted everything and everyone because when you can only see the darkness while questioning why is this happening. Why can’t others see it?

Even with my gifts and which I didn’t realize were gifts because they functioned more of a navigation system to keep me safe, even when they didn’t, or I learn to deny that part of myself because that part of me wasn’t ok with the people around or what people wanted from me or by the world at hand.

My biggest adversary is myself because all those people who did or didn’t do, we're there to tell me their tales of the same untruth and convince me that I could never fit in because I choose love over the darkness of the lies. The deception that fear of people, life, or what they could do or not should leave me in a state of not believing in myself, trusting myself, or loving myself and other people.

I can’t explain why people do what they do- could be programming, trauma, social conditioning, karma, dharma, soul contracts, a type of butterfly effect. What I do know is that I am not Fu*K up because someone else thinks it, not does not make it so.

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