My Journey Toward Worthiness

 

“Come Breakdown, break me wide open and do your thing. Carve your name in the caverns of my hollow heart. Rip off the blinders. Cut the shadow’s cord. I can’t take one more day of this pitch black. This sandpaper love has rubbed me raw and I’m gasping for air. For God’s sake Breakdown! Come!”

 

I’d had it. The pain had settled deeply and there I was on the bathroom floor gushing the first wave of tears from a lifetime of wounds. My picture-perfect life shattering right before my eyes.

I rise to adjust my mask. My fingers slowly trace the outline of my face in the reflection of the mirror. I notice each curve, wrinkle, and the way my eyes look hollow.

Deadness. I tighten my brows and look deeper into my eyes, thinking just maybe I’d see something worth salvaging in my matted soul. Sigh. I close my eyes gently and for a split second I feel a sense of hope. Then the memories return.

After all, unattended wounds don’t always heal. Love starved little girls don’t always grow up. Traumatized children detach from emotion, but the pain? It harbors. It seeps. It grazes in the heart pasture year after year.

I never thought divorcing my husband and claiming my authentic self would be so hard on everyone!

My teens took it so hard, agonizing in pain so much they wanted nothing to do with me.  

It’s not supposed to turn out this way! I can’t be alone! I can’t be apart from my kids! I can’t live like this! Deep sobs convulse my body and I regress into a helpless, traumatized little girl. I keep babbling, “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” until my throat is raw and my lips burn red.

Ironic how one moment can shift momentum. One rejection can trigger a lifetime of shame. One final crack and the mask shatters into a hundred fragments and all that’s left is this kind of naked vulnerability that starts sucking my soul dry.

Masks conceal. Masks distract. Masks make it easier to move on when your inner world is amassing heartache.

But the sacred spirit.

Oh, the forgotten spirit and how it yearns for attention day after day. Year after year.

Tend to me. Please. Just get quiet for a moment, I have so much to say. Slow down. Stop resisting.

I need you. I want you. Please come back to me.

Everyone has a story. Everyone stuffs some pain and that pain- though we run from it with all our might- serves a purpose for God’s glory and the greater good of humanity.

Everyone hides some pain. You know, the kind of pain that digs and digs and becomes so unbearable you do whatever it takes to numb it.

Me? When I hit my cracking point, I lost it emotionally, as every emotion I’d stuffed since childhood surfaced. Insecurity. Unworthiness. Fear. Shame. It was too painful to face them. I needed an anesthetic! Something to kill the pain!

No, I didn’t reach for drugs or alcohol. I jumped right into a toxic relationship that made me feel intoxified and insane at the same time. Broken and ashamed, this kind of love rubbed my heart bloody raw.

Over five years I holed myself up in my own prison, causing myself and others a lot of pain.

I almost died.

The pain caused me to journey inward, but differently than I’d done in my past. That decade in the church was great, but I was primarily operating with my egoic mask on.  To be seen. To be heard – all the while this storm of emotional pain was brewing on the inside. Like a balloon that’s being filled and filled…until…it just can’t take anymore and POP!

Yeah, I popped.

And when you find your emotional self splattered all over the walls, you tend to seek God differently, and you tend to start to see yourself differently.

So I determined to buck up. Hard. I began praying and meditating regularly – determined to discover what was really going on under the surface.

I finally ended the toxic relationship for good. I journeyed inside. I faced my pain. I faced my terrifying fear of being alone. I battled for my life. I cried. I got help. I took my power back and vowed to never again give it away. Never again use a person to fill my void.

Screw the love drug.

Today I tell a new story. I’m no longer a love-starved, fearful little girl. I’m no longer afraid to be who I really am. I’ve dug beneath the superficial, and God’s grace has allowed me to see me underneath ego or carnal nature.

Today, I view life differently – with sacredness at the core.  God, this infinite energy that resonates at the frequency of DIVINE LOVE, has helped me stand up as a powerful woman in God, sharing my story in the hopes that others will be inspired, make changes in their lives, get better, and blaze the whole world with epic stories of triumph.

My life is far from perfect, but it’s not perfection I’m after; It’s progress.

My breakdown was hard, but it was also the springboard for a re-connection with God, a beautiful spiritual awakening, and transformation.

Today, I truly have a blessed life with family and friends who love me unconditionally. A life that oftentimes feels magical.

Stick around. Smash the labels. Sit with your grief for a moment and let God burn you beautiful. Sit with your emptiness for the time being and refuse to numb it or run. Stare at your raw nakedness at your sacred core, and let God teach you how to love you as God loves you!

Allow Christ consciousness to be your aim – truly living in the light and love of God’s kingdom. Laugh and dance in a garden of freedom, because you know you want to.

We all do.

Dominica