*This post was written weeks ago, and I meant to publish it then, but lost track of it (I write a lot that gets published a day or so later), and came across it today. How appropriate. *
There are truths that we hold within us. Truths we've always known. Truths we discover along this path of life. Truths we deny out of self-preservation. Truths we deny out of pride.
I began this blog what feels like oh so very long ago. As a way to remain faithful to myself, as I also discovered some of my own truths. It has given me a voice, where too often I felt like I was shouting in an empty forest. And it has given me strength as I met others like me, others who reminded me that we each have our own paths and "different" doesn't necessarily mean "not right."
Growing up, I felt awkward and unsure. I allowed others to dictate who I was then and who I was to be. I was easily influenced by family, friends, teachers, media. In college I struggled with the fact that people knew me as a certain way that didn't ring true in my soul. I allowed untruths to be shown as real. Because I was afraid of being a disappointment.
I try to be completely me here. I've felt, though, for the last year or two that perhaps I've been holding back a bit. I allowed more people who knew me in real life to know of this place. And while for some it's been fantastic-- I have friends from college who I've actually connected with more--I've also noticed that in my effort to allow people to get to know the real me, I've instead found more distance, more realization of how very different we are, and at times how unacceptable that can be seen as.
A truth I have acknowledged to G this week is that perhaps my longing for England is my longing for who I was able to be there. Because we knew no one, there were no expectations upon me. And a truth I recognize is the blessing I have in my husband, who accepts all of the truths of me. He doesn't expect me to remain stagnant and ever changing. England allowed me to become the woman I always feared would leave me abandoned by those I loved. Moving back to the U.S. I tried to maintain that, and lost it somewhere along the way, with only random glimpses of that woman. I found it oh to easy to slip into who I was used to being.
Enough. Because this I know for sure: I am going to be a mother. A scary, terrifying thing for myself, to suddenly have to be sure of who I am, so that my children are raised to always accept their own truths. I have kept things to myself in an effort to not rock the boat. I've danced with kindness, when firmness would have been better. And I've accepted less than I deserve. Less respect. Less love. Less support.
I don't blame those who have attempted to box me in, for I was right there, crawling into the space that made others more comfortable. It's just that now I have to really take care of me, and my little family. I can't worry what others think or might say. We all hold our own truths, and our responsibility is to discover them and not run from them in fear, but instead to embrace all the things that make us individuals. My truths do not reflect upon your own. Who I am should not change who you are, me being me does not mean that you being yourself is done incorrectly.
We all have our path to wander down. It's time I stop looking to other paths.