Dear Trust Issues,
I know you well—your voice, the comfort of excuses, stepping back from diving deeper, and forfeiting relationships out of self-defense.
You had a strong hold on my heart that told me to bunker down a barricade of hurt piled high and wide. No light, no weak side, just a tired heart. Tired of being manipulated. Tired of being someone's doormat. Tired of closed doors and empty rooms. Tired of "it's not you, it's me."
Pushing away became the reflex to any movement towards my heart. Suppression became the language to silence my feelings. Lies became the soundtrack that chipped away at my confidence. Isolation became the environment I dug for myself.
Thinking "if I stick my schedule, turn the music up louder and never sit down, I'll drown out your voice." The voice that says I'm not worthy. I'm not good enough or loved. And it worked...until it didn't.
Until people started to walk into my life and dust off my hardened heart. Until my walls started to become exposed, cracks and all.
But now, instead of cracks leading to more darkness, a light started to shine through: The cracks I tried to hide, the scars I was ashamed of, and the past that held me captive.
Exposing the lies and my brokenness; my past and new hope; the turning of a page and closing of a chapter.
These were necessary growing pains to experience the new life that knows no bounds. A life conscious of the brokenness but hopeful for genuine relationships.
I learned to use my cracks as an opportunity instead of an excuse. An opportunity for vulnerability and realness instead of an excuse to shut down or shy away. What I was shying away from was actually what my heart was yearning for, love. True, boundless, sincere love that meets you where you are.
So, you don't own me anymore. Instead of you fueling me to sink into darkness, you're fueling me to know my worth and allow people in. The people in the past who grew you into existence have no hold on the new people who truly care about me.
And even still, I am learning to let go. I am learning to invite others into the beautiful mess that molded me. As I peel back the layers of who I settled to be, I am learning to love the process of who I am becoming.