The Lonely Path

There is a lot my family doesn’t know about me. Mostly because they choose to not know or seek understanding. When they see me wallowing in despair their solution is to put a band aid upon a wound that doesn’t exist. I grew tired of trying to live my life as the church, as my parents, as my brothers and sister-in-laws thought I should. Instead I finally broke away and chose my own path. Choosing that path brought me out of despair, and suicidal thoughts but left me lonely. Each time I reached out for comfort from family I found only emptiness and words that were hollow containing no substance.

I sought to create my own family and other than giving birth to my child I found I lacked the knowledge of how to find others of similar minds and hearts.

I used to think the feelings I had as a child of not belonging were because I was the only girl amongst three brothers. As I grew, and shared my thoughts with others, I discovered it had nothing to do with being the only girl. I don’t know why I would develop so differently from my brothers or others in my family only that my thoughts were so alien to them all they could do was sit and nod when I brought them forth. I could no longer commune with them and feel any sense of family or understanding.

As children we had our co-existence with each other in the same household as a factor to bring us a sense of cohesiveness but as adults living our separate lives we, or rather I, could no longer pretend we had any thing of the sort to keep us together.

My mother shunned me when I finally went against one of her rules to never be involved with a black man, when I brought him to meet her, she was very uncomfortable, didn’t say anything about it to me, but then never spoke to me again after that until the day she died. And then all she could do was try and convince me to live my life the way she thought I should live it. I told her what she wanted to hear and walked away shedding tears for the lost years between us that could have been so full of love if she had just accepted me for who I was instead of who she thought I should be.

I can’t help but think how different this world would be if everyone would do just that, accept everyone for who they are instead of who they think they should be. But then there is the problem of how to accept people for who they are when they do not present themselves with their true face.

On June 25th, 2013 I had an epiphany of sorts when the realization came to me of the following: “There are no lies, only truths in disguise.” The hard part is trying to see clearly through the disguise and that is what leaves me and probably others very disheartened. I want to believe people tell me the truth.  That they present themselves to me with honesty and when I discover signs that this is not the case, it is very hard to not beat myself up for not seeing it from the very beginning.  Even though I know it is not me at fault, I still find myself chastising myself for being that person who wants to trust so much in others. It is a hard thing to not lose one’s trust in one’s self and move on and hope another person doesn’t do the same.

I walk the path I have chosen because I have to be true to myself. I can no longer walk a path that others choose for me because they think that is how I should be. I’ve learned I can survive walking away from those who cannot accept me for who I am or choose to present to me a false face even if it means it leaves me alone and feeling lonely. I have to do what is right for me.

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