A few thoughts.
I love to talk. Being vulnerable helps me heal. Sharing is caring after all, right?
How many times must I rebuild?? I've asked myself this question so many times over the last 5 years. Partly because I've finally recognized the difference between rebuilding and building walls...and then another part of me knows I'll never stop.
In my life each time I was abandoned...each time I felt useless and unwanted...I added bricks. A few at a time. But these bricks had no solid foundation and on many occasions my walls were destroyed fast and without understanding. I'd let someone in who appeared to be interested in a partnership, but in reality...they were only emotional vampires who came to take whatever I'd give. Which in most cases was everything I had. You'd think after doing this repeatedly with the same ending (different characters)...I would stop. But to keep with the honest theme here, I can't. I believe I was born with a gift. To save others, heal them emotionally. When their burdens are too heavy to bear, I carry them with them...which mostly turns into for them. What a heavy burden to bear huh?? Yes. Yes it is. Over the years I'm learning to develop this gift. The older I get, the more I am certain my Dad had the same gift...but we will discuss that later.
At 28, I had begun rebuilding again. This time I was determined not to go backwards (although my mind would try diligently to do so often). I'm an overthinker. Anyone else? I put careful and mostly way to much thought into everything I do. It's debilitating at times and I often believe I get this from my Dad too. The root? Fear of failure. Being seen as weak. Being misunderstood. All things that bring rejection and more fear. I didn't know it at the time, but at this age is when I started the process to stop the madness...when I started to believe there could be a better way.
So, for the time being I found comfort in the small things...like living alone. Learning to take care of myself without assistance from anyone. I thought I had mastered that a few times before, but that wasn't really true. Now...approaching my 30s I was finally figuring it out. Sort of.
In the back of my mind, I always believed Dad and I would get a second try. Maybe when I got married or had children...we'd fit back perfectly into each other's lives. But God had other plans. You see in the front of my mind was a wall I'd built. A wall, that to me, meant he couldn't go where I was going. Why? Because I simply wasn't strong enough to handle it. Him. It was a defense mechanism that I stood firm on...then. I sincerely believed I could find myself in this world without him.
I'll tell you now...I was so very wrong. And we will leave it at that.
After finding myself physically well...I became very careful about where I spent my time. So I thought. Turns out, I had a few people near and dear to me that were hurting internally just as much as I was. Hurting and stuffing their emotions down into that dark place we hope we never find again. We were all trying to "find ourselves"...and we began trying together. Then, in the midst of this rebuild, something huge happened.
I met my husband.
But I need you to understand that before he and I met...I had already decided I wasn't ever getting married again. I was genuinely making plans to join the Peace Corp. However, he changed the game. He helped me save my own life. A true gift from God. My Dad never met him. In fact, Dad left this world a mere week after we got married, what I had hoped would be a vibrant celebration...new beginning for us all...turned into just that, but not how I had dreamed it would. Even though I hadn't spoken to my Dad in a few years, never meant he wasn't in my heart or mind. I wish I had told him that. Somehow as I type this, I feel like now he knows.
Everything moved so quickly with my future husband. But I felt safe. Doesn't mean I didn't fight it. Why? Because at this time, deep down, I still felt like I didn't deserve to be happy. As I had just come out of the biggest health scare of my life, I truly believed that was my second chance. My "win" if you will. But then...then walked in my angel. My darling husband. Oh my...he sure had no idea the baggage I had to unpack...the preverbial suitcases I had been dragging around for almost 29 years. What a treat he was in for. That we both were in for. If I'd had my defensive minded way, I would have used my daddy issues to single handily destroy any chance of a future with this man. But God said NO. This man was my real deal. The one who would consistently love me more and more each day. Love me like Jesus does. I mean...what are the chances that I met a man from CO, who graduated college in the same town that held all my favorite memories with my Dad??
All the coincidences that occurred to bring us together...were not coincidence at all. They were perfectly orchestrated by Him. Every detail carefully thought out and planned. The reasoning was beyond my human understanding. Still is, but I no longer believe I don't deserve happiness. On that hot June day 5 years ago...God showed us the beginning of our greatest journey, that could only be lived together.
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