as I walk

the journey to becoming me


If there were an award for freaking out- I’m pretty sure I’d get it.  All week I’ve been wrestling with the concept of confession.  Confessing to God… doesn’t seem all that bad- I mean, He already knows your junk and won’t be surprised… not to mention that you can’t see Him make a face that says “you’re an idiot”.  That’s a game changer- which is so backwards- I mean, God is the one who has power.  People… are just… His creation.  So why freak out more with people?  Because that my friend, is my best skill.  

I had to be talked down a few times this week.  I even had a backup system in place (I had a fake list of things to confess- that way she wouldn’t know that I wussed out and I wouldn’t have to do the hard work).  I woke up this morning, and it didn’t feel quite as scary.  I thought, “Hey, I can do this.”  So I wrote down my list.  While driving to work, I started to panic that if I got into a car accident and were taken to the hospital, that someone would see it.  I got to work and shredded it (there could have been an incident with battery acid, and someone would have found my list).  Then I re-wrote it, because I knew I’d need it and would totally fake it if I didn’t have it.  

I started thinking of my traditional “worst case scenarios”.  Most ended with me no longer going to my small group or Greenhouse, and 1 ended with me having to move out of state.  I was a wreck at work.  I kept thinking I was going to throw up.  I had that nervous feeling… you know, like you get when you’re in trouble.  By 6pm, I was biting people’s heads off at work and was shaking.  Wait- did I just describe a chihauha?  

At the time, I felt like I was going to die- physically die from this.  But, I really felt safe.  And loved.  It was a painfully beautiful experience.  A friend asked me how I feel now- my response was that I feel like I’m coming out from under anesthesia; kinda funky, kinda floaty, and kinda in pain.  I essentially had surgery tonight- (refraining from making the “rash” joke a 3rd time for the evening) and after a short time of healing, it will be time to have physical therapy.  More pain… but it’s a good pain for good reasons.

I think the best moment was at the end (besides the fact that it was over), when she hugged me.  Not even in my hopes of the evening did I expect that.  It negated a lot of shame and fear.  Things that I’ve held onto for years and years were shed in that hug.  I know that I still have a lot of work to do on this (for instance, now that shame is no longer my identitiy… what will take its place?), but, I think I’m going to take a little bit of time to feel this release and to dwell in that feeling of love and safety.  


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