You brought back the parts of me I hid away trying to become the woman my aunt wanted me to be.
I spent years hating myself because I wasn’t Christian enough because I loved Harry Potter and believed in magic. I believed I was a ‘wicked’ person for wanting to listen to darker themed music and was attracted to boys who wore black and wore eyeliner. My family was always preaching Christian purity at me, but my Aunt — she was my idol and anything she wanted me to be I desperately wanted to become for her. So I buried the things that gave me joy and happiness. I minimized their impact and tried to love other things just as much. Fortunately for me, one of my super powers is finding the joy in anything I’m faced with – so losing the pieces of me I loved that weren’t up to par with the image everyone else had of me was replaced with suppressing that joy, replacing it with shame, and finding joy in other more “acceptable, palatable” avenues.
My aunt never wanted anything for me other than for me to sing worship music at churches across the country. She thought that was my calling and only saw a future for me in ministry. I let my guilt over wanting to make her happy shadow my own development and career choices because I’d feel guilty for pursuing college and wanting a college experience without going to church every Sunday and Bible study on Wednesday and practice every week and this event, that event — it’s exhausting to expend your effort in that many directions. But I chose to lie to her and pretend that it’s what I wanted, killing myself in the process, living this double life, trying to have the life I wanted and the life she wanted me to have.
When she died, I was left with nothing.
I didn’t have her.
I didn’t have the life I wanted.
I didn’t have the life she wanted for me.
I was a shell of a person. I’d forgotten what kind of life I even wanted for myself outside of her influence. I never pictured my life without her in it. I spent so much of my life terrified I’d let her down I forgot to enjoy the moments I had with her as just memories of joy. I forgot to care about anything fully for myself as just my own experience for my growth and no one else’s.
I tried to date someone I believed SHE would want for me. I literally said “yes, this is a sign because he mentioned God, I know aunt Kim would want this” and convinced myself to stay longer than I should have because I know she would want me to try and offer forgiveness and healing first. Trying to impress her is at the forefront of all my actions.
And then I met you.
I was broken and detached from myself. I’ve never been so disassociated from reality as I was back then and it was like someone stopped me, grabbed my shoulders and said “hey, you okay?” For the first time in years. Like I’d been running around unnoticed and suddenly someone stuck their hand out to ask who the hell I was.
In talking to you, I recognized banter I’d lost in myself to years of people not getting my references or understanding my humor. I found an endless curiosity for knowledge and seeing things from alternative perspectives that I haven’t gotten to explore since college and deeply missed. I rekindled a passion for music and art and creativity that I haven’t felt since I tried to cut away my flaws and all the ways I wasn’t good enough when I’d cut my wrists and legs. I embraced my love for games and the joy they gave me as a child and gained friendships that helped me get through some of the hardest things I’ve ever endured.
And the more I got to know you, the more I eased into the person I’ve always wanted to be. I felt safe enough to be nothing but honest and authentic with you at a time when I didn’t know which way was up and every second I spent with you opened me up to my authentic personality more and more. You gave me the space to bloom into the best version of myself and stop living the lies that I’d been trying to keep up for everyone else’s sake.
What’s ironic is that the more I embrace my authenticity, the more love I have. Do I believe in Christianity as my aunt did? No, I don’t. Spirituality is something so much more complex to me. Do I believe love is the greatest and most powerful force on this planet? Yes. I know it is, because I see how it’s transformed me. I see what it’s capable of. Do I know what I’ll think/believe in the future? No – nor do I want to. I’ve learned to be grateful for the present and what it gives me and you’ve given me that gift.
I don’t know if you’ll be in my future, but I am so grateful for every moment you’ve been a part of my story.
Rheya Reads 