#stillbeingwritten

Yesterday I was asked by a friend to share my testimony. Never had I ever been asked to do so, and was so caught off guard that I didn’t even know how to respond. As I began to think about my life; where I had come from, where I’d been, who’d influenced me, the struggles I’ve come across, and even where I’m going- I was overwhelmed. How am I supposed to share who I truly am when I barely allow myself to know that vulnerable side of me? As I began to answer the question, I opted for the easy, safe and somewhat of a lie answer because in my head “my story and everything in between” doesn’t measure up to what other people have gone through. My answer? “Well I’ve always grown up in the church, my life hasn’t always been 100%, but I’m grateful for where I’m at today and the places God has taken me.” The minute I finished my answer, I was sick. How am I supposed to continue going through life giving people great advice, always having the listening ear, and ultimately trying to find my purpose; when I can’t even be real with myself? So here it goes, here’s my story... This is me.

I was born on June 18, 1996 to my parents. I’ve never had the courage to ask my parents exactly their own relationship story, but what I do know is they met in college, decided to start a relationship, came up with a surprise baby at 20 and were together maybe a year or two after I was born. Growing up, until I was around 6 we (my mom and I) lived with my Nana and Grandpa and I loved it. Once I started first grade and my mom started teaching, we moved out and that’s really when I began to realize the difficulties of having two separate households. I lived with my mom during the week and then every other weekend I would switch between the two houses. At this point my dad had gotten back together with his high school sweetheart, as for my mom she never really talked or talks about men in her life, I’ve only known about two possible people she really “talked” to. I would always tell people that it wasn’t hard going between houses, but kind of cool because I got two rooms, got to have one-on-one time with each parent, do different things, etc. For sure is wasn’t the absolute worst thing in the world, but as I got older having to choose and make decisions of family events or parties to go to or miss or telling my dad I wasn’t coming for the weekend was always hard. Right before or as I entered middle school, I definitely started to realize that my parents weren’t always rainbows and sunshine. Even thought they wouldn’t necessarily have arguments in front of me, I knew my dad had some pretty hurtful things to my mom and vice versa. The animosity at some points was so thick, I would just get quiet and not know what to do. My mom is my number one, I would and will always have her side and so seeing her upset or act a certain way in certain situations or to my {now} stepmom, made me uneasy to feel glad about seeing her or certain situations because I didn’t want her to be upset at me (I’ve never verbalized or told that to anyone). As i continued to be more in tune with my parents I kind of realized that I didn’t like or agree with the man my dad was and how he was doing certain things in his life. I saw him tell lies many of times and also felt second to my {now} stepmom, but at the time just his girlfriend. The best thing I knew how to do at the time was write him something and explain how I felt. I never really felt comfortable talking to my dad, until these last 2-3 years, simply because he was intimidating to me, I was more comfortable with my mom and I just felt like he didn’t get me. I wrote this letter and it was mean. I was raw, truthful, then add a hormonal preteen in there and that should be enough to explain it. I wasn’t mature enough to know how to not go off on emotion, and truly think about the words that I was writing and how the saying “words last forever” will always be relevant. He got that letter and he was livid. Not only livid, but I’m pretty sure hurt and astonished that his preteen daughter would ever think that was okay to say. That sort of started the 5+ years of stuff that was just awkward to put it in the best way. Basically my dad counteracted my words of hurt to words of intimidation that forever scarred me as well. “You will never speak to me like that again, I’m your dad. Just as you got to say your piece, I get to say mine and your words and actions will have consequences.” That last statement right there was it for me, from that point forward and a lot of me to this day- has never opened up truly to another man in my life. Maybe a few things here and there or alluded to something in particular, but never the full me. Which leads into the next part about me...

Growing up I always had a ton of friends. One thing I never could escape from was always being the biggest girl in my group of friends and being the only black girl. Being the two of these things, I was always the outcast and different and never, ever did boys ever like me. I was always the friend that would be on the bottom of my friends little cheer pyramid on the playground, the ones helping them doing their gymnastics flips since I wasn’t in gymnastics and wasn’t flexible, the one that could never fit/share clothes, and the friend without the sports games on weekends and different medals or trophies to show for anything. I had always wished my parents would’ve put me into sports because I felt and sort of still feel that I would’ve been/would be more confident in myself. Even though I know my friends were the real deal and loved me for me sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to have their lives even just for a day. This has carried on my whole life. When it comes to boys, since growing up I was the different one, it was hard for me when I entered high school to have people actually say they “liked me” or “thought I was cute.” I always thought it was too good to be true and usually I was right. So I began to opt for “pleasing” a guy because then when I got hurt it was less painful.

The first guy I ever remember having an interest in me was a really good friend, he would tell me how he wanted to date and once I had opened up to him about my walls and being scared of someone hurting me- he said he was “going to be different.” No more than a couple weeks after that I caught him talking to this other girl and calling her “his girl”, that was it- besides being so angry, I was also devastated I lost a best friend. The next boy that came around was a year or two older so I definitely thought he was going to be mature. We were introduced through a mutual friend and he actually got to know me. Wanted to learn all types of things about me, texted me good morning and good night, talked about how we were going to be together and even if that didn’t happen or just didn’t work because of our locations at the time, I could still always count on him. A month or so later, I find out that he had been playing me as his rebound and was now back with his ex. How did I find this out? Looking at a friends text messages and seeing that she had texted him to be funny and his girl answered the texts for him. Never have seen or spoken to him since, never got an explanation or apology. Oh, and he lied to our mutual friend about everything that went down too. After those two I was done. I didn’t care about anything at that point. Fast forward about a year and a half and that leads me to the third guy. He was also someone I had considered my best friend. We had known each other for years and had for some reason just gotten really close to the point that we basically spent every waking minute with each other and our other two close friends at the time. One day, he got super horny and tried to do a little something, something with me. I didn’t really have any deep knowledge about how things really go or what’s necessarily expected- so it was definitely awkward. Rumors were made and things said by him to other people, but I let it slide because we ended up talking and got over that hump. Everything was back to normal. Fast forward three months. He wants to try something again, I didn’t agree, but it just happens and again was SO awkward. Nothing ever happened again. We still hung out a lot over summer he got with other girls, etc. My senior year, he gets a girlfriend and dips out on me. I also find out that he along with others were still talking about me and him, negatively and it was so undeniably embarrassing I was numb. Best friend number two that I had lost, he had no remorse, still treats me like I’m not a human being and is a complete douche bag. My senior year marked the fourth year that I wasn’t asked to homecoming or Christmas dinner (winter formal), yay me. I was oddly okay with that, but partly because boys were not my priority and I didn’t want a pity date. The last semester of senior year I gained a crush on one my close friends. He treated me like an actual human being and was/is one of the sweetest people I know. I asked him to Spring Fling and thankfully he said yes. (I never ever put myself out there, so this was a huge milestone for myself). He then asked me to prom later that year. Everyone spoke about us as a couple and I sort of developed this fantasy in my head, but that was it a fantasy. After graduation, the fourth guy entered my life. This was just a casual thing, nothing too crazy and we never spoke of it after it happened, he is still one of my closest friends and I love him dearly. What I realized though after him was that I just allowed guys to use me. Even though I was to blame for letting it happen, I also began to realize this was an easy coping mechanism I had for not fully letting people “hurt” me. I went into college not looking for anything, but ending up falling harder for senior year crush. Eventually I told him how I felt, he said nothing. Absolutely nothing. That was the equivalent to continuous stabbing over and over and over and over... but of course, things went “back to normal.” In spring, I became so lost in my feelings I made a Tinder (worst thing to do ever). I matched with people and eventually started talking to this guy. He fell hard for me. It was by far the weirdest thing I’ve experienced because to this day I’m still the heaviest, different outcast in my group of friends. I had never had someone genuinely like me in this way before. He wanted to take me out on dates, show me off as his girl, and told his friends about me. He’s a great person, but I began to sabotage it and found out things he was or had been doing behind my back even though we weren’t “together” I still in a way used it as an excuse to feel betrayed and stop everything. Summer came around again and my high school crush was back home from school. I had missed him dearly but knew that most likely his no answer was my clear answer. My hopes though still prevailed and I was stuck in the same predicament I had been before. Recently, I contacted him and told him I needed an answer. I was right, his no answer was my answer, and it hurt deeply because he was just another one to add to my pathetic list, but at the same time it was empowering to know I put myself out there and even though the outcome wasn’t my perfect fairy tale, I survived and can keep pressing forward.

Back to my parents. Eventually my dad decided he was going to propose to his girlfriend, he just decided to tell me the day of instead of months in advance like the rest of my family. Oh, and he never told me they were moving in together either until I took a tour of the house and “saw my new room!!” This was a huge setback to me because I felt that the last 5 years had been a good growing patch of trying to become more open and verbal in communication and then this curve ball was thrown at me. I didn’t really speak/hang out with my dad much that year. I did my thing and saw him when I wanted, but not as much as I had been before. A year later, right before his wedding, my parents and I had a very long, productive, and sincere talk that has changed the ball game ever since. Granted we are far from the perfect family, but we have come a long way from where we started.

The best part of my story, in every aspect of it, is God was with me. Granted there are a ton of other details and good, bad and ugly events that have also happened in my life; these are the key events that have shaped me into the insecure, scared, passionate, loving, sincere, truthful, God-fearing woman I am today.  My testimony is simply the sand dollar story: “When you only say one set of foot prints in the sand, that’s when I carried you.” Yes, the mistakes I have made in my life were made by my feet, and only mine alone; but God has carried and embraced me more times than I can count and that’s the most comforting part.

But then there you were again, charming as hell, and reminding me why I fell the first time. I couldn't push away the jealousy I felt whenever I saw them make you smile or touch your hand. Every girl was an enemy, even my closest of friends. I don't know what it is that happens when I'm around you but it's like a poison, seeping into everything I know. But I can't let it show, can't let it overwhelm me, at the risk of driving you away again. All I wanted was a clean slate and you gave it to me, no strings attached. And there I was at an awkward lunch, suffering through every moment because it couldn't possibly be the same as when we were almost me and you. The best part was you didn't even realize. The whole time you were so uniquely you, never a surprise and always that same lemon lime.

In the midst of it all, I watched it begin again. I saw another set of eyes meet mine with a smile. I longed for another set of arms around me. Yet every post, every picture, it turned my mind back to you. I was constantly reminded of what might of been and couldn't focus on what might still be. It isn't fair, it isn't fair to him that while I text him, I think of you. So finally I step out, I fight the tension in my chest and I ask you that question that you're never supposed to ask, What happened?

I think I surprised you but it had to be said, I couldn't move on without knowing why and what if. You didn't really have the answers but I could tell by how you tiptoed around and deflected that it was over. I knew that I was pushing you away as I tried to hang on to any last shred of what we had. So I fled, holding the tatters of my dignity to hide behind the small talk that had once given me a reason just to talk to you. But almost imperceptibly my whole body relaxes. My heart takes a deep breath and the tension of the last six months fades. I can smile again and I know that I'm just enjoying the calm before another storm. The moment where he thinks I'm pretty and compliments my eyes stays with me and the moment where you turned your back fades.

I know that I'll have to see you again but I think that now we can rebuild. We will never have that same summer intoxication but finally I can move on like you did two girlfriends and four months ago. I fell down but now I can get back up stronger.