It was like a waged war. I was the battlefield and the warriors had no allys. They arrived, bearing clubs and spears of different kinds, breaking into the flimsy barricade put up by the protection of guardians during the era of childhood. Their strong feet crushed the little I had left to hold on to and their big hands squashed the balls bearing the sound of my muffled voice. Finally, I lost it.
With a destroyed gateway, the rest strolled in and helplessly, I embraced them all. They had become the only belief within my reach. Some came in the form of expectations that suddenly looked too much for me to attain. Pressures from friends and family pushed down every complaints that seemed to rear its head. The fear of not meeting up to those expectations was worse. I couldn’t bear to see the looks of disappointment bodly etched on their faces as a result of my failure. I was stuck halfway up the ladder, not so sure my legs could carry me through to the top and at the same time, scared of what awaited should I decide to go back down.
Some of them came in the form of comparism to people I thought I would never meet up with. People who I strived to be like; people who I wanted to be. I lost myself in the midst of this storm and another took over. The ruggedness of rock n roll artists seduced me, the swiftness of dancers enthralled me, the confidence of those on whites attracted me and the creativity of designers appealed to me. They all wared inside of me. I was lost in the world of making decisions and finding myself.
Others presented themselves in the form of guilt trips and had me always thinking that those I had offended in times past would decide to use my fears against me. I always looked behind my shoulders as I walked down quiet streets, expecting a livid Michael to revenge my lying against him or an apoplectic Mary to run me over for calling her a whore the previous month.
It was all bleak and dark as I tried to find my way around. No one could see the darkness. No one was willing to. I was meant to be perfect – I was seen as perfect. It bothered me because I was far from perfection; I wasn’t who they thought I was. I wanted to meet up with their standards; to be able to please them in all aspects. I tried doing that but it resulted in me stepping on my toes in the process. The pain worried me too. It stung real bad that I wanted to give up.
Like a bucket of water appearing in a far away desert, he came along. The whole earth seemed to creep away from existence as he held on to me , whispering sweet words of love into my ears. He touched me and I revelled in his celestial glory. It felt too good to be true.
He told me I was special to him; that I was perfect and beautiful. I didn’t have to try to be someone else in his presence. Meeting up to a standard or an expectation was non existent with him. He told me he would give me light; bright enough to lead me wherever I wanted. He gave me peace – he was my peace.
The war still goes on within me. The expectations look me in the face everyday. Finding myself in the midst of all is yet to be achieved. But in everything, I’m well.
He was right all along. All I had to do was cast all of my cares and burdens on him and I found rest. He said I should take no thought for tomorrow, for tomorrow shall take thought for the things of itself.