I’ve been growing.
I’ve been looking back at my past and seeing how it’s changed me. Seeing why I am how I am, and how I can change myself. Not because I don’t like myself. No.
In the past year, I’ve begun to love myself. No longer hating the pain and anger that sits inside of me, no longer hating the face that was given to me, no longer mad about the body that I call mine, no longer ashamed that I’m me.
I can go back and read past blog posts, smiling at who I was then.
And I can go back five years and tell myself it wasn’t my fault. I shouldn’t feel guilty for refusing to see my grandfather four days before he died. I shouldn’t feel guilty for not hugging him the last time I saw him. I shouldn’t hurt because at his funeral I didn’t cry.
God and my grandfather know that I loved him. And I’m proud to be his granddaughter. Proud that I had a grandfather with such a story.
Instead of feeling the pain of my twelfth birthday, I can remember the beauty of the bouquet my father brought me. The moment I hugged him, soaking in his warmth and the clean smell of the hospital. He had made it, he was here to celebrate, even if it was a only for a few hours.
Instead of basking in the things I missed on that birthday, I can relive the tears that rolled down my cheeks when people from my church surprised me. Because they actually cared, because this was a good reason to let all the tears out, a time I didn’t have to be strong.
I’ve been patching up the relationships I destroyed in my desperate attempt to control my life. I’ve started releasing my fears. They aren’t all gone, and it’ll be a lifelong journey. But in the past year, I’ve been taught one thing.
I’m not in control.
I’m just in for the ride. So why hold on with a vice grip, when I can just lean back? I know that my God is only planning things that will be good for me. Sure, the good might hurt at times, it might bring tears. It might even feel like too much.
But God always gives you strength. Sometimes that’s only enough strength to lie in bed, sometimes it’s only enough strength to sob on the floor. Sometimes it’s enough strength to get up and run. And sometimes, it’s enough strength to soar.
Comparison should never be allowed to enter your mind. Because your journey, the amount of strength God sees fit to give you is uniquely yours.
God has written a unique story for each of us.
I would never wish to have someone live my past, and in order for you to be me, you would have to have that. Never compare yourself to me, to others, to the people around you. You don’t know what they’ve gone through, and it’ll only ruin your own story.
If you don’t have both eyes on the road, you’ll never know the difference between good and best. Live your story, my friends. Embrace it, love it, understand the beauty, and do your very best.
Your past might be sad, your future might be rocky, and the present might be dark, but God promises that though there are tears in the night, joy will come with the morn. ❤