Something to Believe in

Somewhere along the way I lost my faith in everything I ever thought I believed in. And when I say everything, I do mean everything. It was almost as if the very beliefs I built my life's foundation on was a fault line of lies. And for some reason, we are so quick to believe a lie before the truth.

I believe I had what could be referred to as a 'tower' moment. The very foundation I was standing on was struck and battered by a thousand lightning bolts all at once, to violently crash to the ground, no cover left visible in the rubble of my life.

My faith in systems and institutions designed to protect us collapsed, everything I believed about life exploded into a million pieces. But worst of all, I lost faith in humanity and was losing faith in love. The one thing I have always believed is that love is the cure to everything. But love is a tricky thing and can't always be easily trusted, no matter how hard you try.

I believed the stories I told myself as I intentionally placed each rock in the castle walls around my heart. Each one strategically placed to shield and protect me from all of the hurt and pain living inflicted. The blinding coat of confidence, a mask that said, "don't mess with me or else you'll get hurt". Unwittingly keeping love at arm's length; never letting anyone closer than invited, never revealing the true depths of my soul.

It's hard to explain, but I always feel like an outsider in my own skin. I was always looking in but never feeling like I belonged. No matter how much they would tell me they loved me, it always felt like I was like standing in a doorway of trust, the battle between my head and my heart. Carefully swinging the door open and closed, while patiently keeping time, until the crack in the ground swallowed me whole.

A line I had been tracing in order to survive and win at this game of life and if I followed the rules as I was taught, there was no way I could lose the fight. So confident in truth and justice, I never once considered I would have to prove I was worthy enough to still be alive. Blood on my knees, no one to save me, and nobody but me to blame for the storm I was standing in.

The storm has since cleared and with nothing left to give, I had no one to thank except myself. I had successfully done what I was taught to do best; push everyone away by abandoning myself. By trying to protect my heart from the one thing it desired most, which ironically turned into a burning shame I kept hidden for wanting more from this life. I want it all! I want the fairytale; to not be afraid to take off the masks I wear in the masqueraded world, outside of my prison walls.

My soul craves the kind of love that doesn't exist from what I had so far experienced and/or ever witnessed. There was no prince or princess coming to save me and true love doesn't really exist. The only logical thing my heart could do was be the love they needed and then run like hell so they wouldn't catch me in time to be reciprocated. Never slowing down to understand their side of the story, I kept running so the pain of being loved wouldn't catch me in its evil web, ever again.

Love can't be trusted if it has to hurt to be felt.

 Hopeless and stranded, I decided to do what my grandpa taught me to do, I found myself praying for help so I could rise up like a Phoenix from what was left of the scorches on the earth.

I prayed the fire inside me would burn up the ropes and melt the chains that bind me in the shadows of memories that stand guard over my heart, safe from its fears of being hurt. Protected like a bird in a cage where it can safely be seen and heard but never really touched.

Could it be said if a bird doesn't fly free then it can't get hurt; but what nobody tells the little bird is that very cage will be what breaks her spirit and silences her song.

So, I prayed to something, anything bigger than me; until my voice went hoarse, my hands ached and my tired knees numb. I could no longer feel the tears on my face, but I could see the crimson of my blood pouring like love into the flood waters.

The storm was clearing the path to my view in the swirling reflections, altering my perception. Replaying the lies I believed to be true, releasing my secrets, and revealing my truth. I am the only one responsible for holding myself hostage.

Looking back, it was in the reflection of each piece, I found the proof that everything I believed wasn't always the truth. The hard lesson I learned was only I had the power within to rearrange the pieces, in order to love myself. I have come to learn that if I am meant to be authentic and true during my time on this planet, I need to believe in the freedom of love.

I have found that if held too tightly, love will die in a stranglehold with no chance of survival. I discovered love has wings and when set free to fly, it will always return to me again and again, as if I were its home.

As humans, it may seem when we love others, we are forced to prove our worth at the cost of being seen and heard. It is when love tries to silence us, we find ourselves standing in a storm of emotions waiting and praying time doesn't run out before we get it right.

This is the time to be grateful! This is the chance to clear the debris out of the way and begin to rebuild on a more solid foundation, with a shelter that won't crumble the next time it pours.

It seems I had been planting seeds of hope with every storm and this time I can see that the roots only keep me grounded when I believe in something more than my human eyes can prove and nothing less than the feelings of love, I was left standing in the storm with.

Kneeling in that storm praying for the answers I couldn't find alone, the kind of answers only the universe could provide. I was given a gift disguised as something I could believe in and surprisingly enough, that something was me.

With love, I am something to believe in.

Until next time,

T. McB