why I won’t stop apologizing // no. 113

I saw a quote the other day. “Girl, stop apologizing!” For some reason, it bothered me to see this. There is a culture being pushed on women to stop belittling ourselves and just go on and live how we want to. Now, I am all for living well and in a way that brings you joy, but I don’t think that has anything to do with apologies.

Why? Why do I have to stop apologizing?

What if I did something wrong? Shouldn’t I apologize then? Or does an apology mean succumbing to the inequality that still exists (in some minds) between men and women?

I believe equality also means taking ownership of yourself when you have done something wrong. Perhaps you are not sure if you’ve done something wrong, but you want to make sure that you are not harming anyone with your words or actions.

Now, I also do not think that women should feel the need to explain every little thing that they do. Women should be trusted to know how to do what they say they will do and understand how to ask for help if they need it. It’s just this notion that we, as women, don’t have to take responsibility for something that bothers me. We are as capable as men of doing something which requires an apology. Society must be so hyper-focused on the fact that men aren’t usually asked to apologize for their wrongdoings that they think all women should be exempt since they’ve been apologizing for things that were not their problems for years.

And maybe I’m just overthinking it all.

I don’t know.

This is one of those journalesque posts that really serve no one but myself in their publishing, to sit on the web and live a quiet existence but remind me of where my mind once was.
I think that is quite alright.

Maybe the author of the quote wasn’t saying all apologizing from women is bad; however, the context of a quote like that should be further explored before it is thrown to the wilds of the internet, unlike this piece, which will go forth having only been vetted by the grammar-checking service I use.

Such is the irony of life.

musings from a new space // no. 122

As I sit in a new coffee shop, twiddling my thumbs and hoping inspiration will strike and that all my travel plans won’t still be cancelled in 2021, and that I can work it out to be a freelancer, I find myself just grateful for a chance to be out. A chance to explore a new part of the place I live which is vastly more beautiful than one can describe over a few typed words on a screen.

After this year, any moment in a new place is a gift.

This world is filled with people and places that have a story and a purpose and a drive to breathe in creativity and exhale new inventions and ideas. Some people would want to attribute that kind of colorful drive to a cosmic power of weird name and description, but it can only be from a divine Creator who has so much more thought capacity and room for creative inspiration than we know. I think he has this beautiful bend in his spirit to show us how much bigger this whole life is than we know.

You see, the thing about the Creator is that he is personal, and he wants relationship with us. Can you even fathom that?

An all-powerful, divine being who created something from nothing and knows every star by name wants to know ME?

No way.

And yet, I secretly wish to know him, too. Despite my fears of what might happen, I want to know him more.

Maybe that’s why I seek out new places to pen my thoughts. I find that he meets me in these moments in a way that I can’t connect to anywhere else. There’s always a space for me to listen because I’ve chosen to quiet myself. I’ve chosen to simply BE.

I’m grateful for his light and creativity. For his unending love. For the truth he brings to my heart. I pray you’ll know him, too.

the response to other’s joy

Have you ever found yourself in a place of both happiness and bitterness? Where you feel as if you are straddling a chasm and part of you wishes just to fall in so you don’t have to deal with the emotions you’re carrying right now.

This usually happens to me when something good happens for someone else.

I know, it sounds terrible. Let me explain.

I love my friends dearly and I rejoice with them when they are deserving and things go well in their lives. I know they will cheer me on when good things come my way. Yet, when a momentous event happens, why is my first thought a string of profanity wrapped in a bow of bitterness and my second thought joy?

Is it because of jealousy in my own heart? Have I been lying to myself and my friends this whole time about my motivation for being friends with them?

It is times like this where the thoughts of withdrawal come in. What if I stopped showing up? What if I didn’t respond? What if I left and never looked back?

These are the things that circle in my mind before I move to congratulations.

And that makes me sad.

Today, one of those momentous occasions was brought to my attention, and yes, my first reaction was, “Oh, shit, really?” My second reaction was, “That’s so cool, I’m so excited for them!” My final reaction was, “Will it ever be my turn and will anyone even care by that point?”

Dramatic, right?

Well, let’s just say self-worth and confidence have not always been my thing. However strong I may present to the world, I’m desperately hoping to be seen, known and loved wholeheartedly, and I don’t trust people enough to do that. I’ve seen them leave. I’ve told them my secrets and they’ve taken them and left without missing a beat.

I’ve been shattered and scattered and my heart doesn’t feel whole. So I give out half-pieces of it, not letting anyone see the full mess anymore. I don’t think people can take it, or maybe I don’t want to believe that someone would want to. Because then I would have to risk the hurt again.

That is a scary thing.

Nevertheless, I am here typing away my sorrows knowing that today, after seeing this particular event take place for my friend and working through all of the feelings, I needed to pray.

Take the bitterness away, because while this does hurt, I know it cannot be the end.

A lot of times I feel like I must be failing miserably with the faith thing. Like, I must not have enough trust to be blessed with the type of love and care I am looking for in all of my relationships.

How incredibly short-sighted of me!

God really knows it all, my friends. I mean ALL of it. Even as I type out the things that have been doing laps in my head, I know that God is good. So when I felt the bitterness, I prayed. When I felt the misery, I prayed. I’ll do it all again the next time I come to it, too.

He is never too far nor too scared of our feelings for us to talk to him. He is so much bigger than what is in front of us. For all those who question, I’m praying for peace and hope for you, too.

the ability to process

It comes in waves. I can’t always see the onset of it, but it always comes in waves.

When you are an empath, there is nothing that stops the faucet of feelings you have every second of the day. Whether it is about a current event or remembering how you were affected by something seven years ago, you FEEL. It is a gift and a burden wrapped up in a package that looks just like me.

I often struggle with finding the words in real life to convey how I am feeling. I seek out the descriptors of emotions from the blood of the poets, their ink, to articulate my thoughts. Sometimes I find a friend in them. Other times, I wonder how I’ll ever be able to manage.

Have you, too, felt this way?

Inwardly wrestling against yourself and the need to know and understand so much that your body begins to shut down?

I felt this today, and with the current state of the world, I chose to back off. I opted out.

So many are calling this a privilege that I am using to avoid a situation.

I know I cannot be helpful in the way they so desire if I remain where I am.

Most importantly, I cannot hear God when I am busy trying to solve the world’s issues on threads of life. I have not met with him today. These words are the closest time we’ve spent together, but I know He is with me. He helped me get off of social media today. He helped me silently put it away and just be. I am here, breathing. Taking it all in slowly, and laying it right back down at his feet.

He is the only one who has ever helped me process my emotions. He is the only one who truly understands the weights I feel, and He is helping me see my priorities.

If I want to be a teacher, I must first be a student.

And, so, here I am.

A student.

I have absolutely no idea how to be “adequate” enough for anyone in the world who has an agenda, good or bad. I’m going to be authentic with all, vulnerable with a few, and raw with Him. This is my lesson, to sit and know him better that I may be able to share him with others.

This is a long journey. But I will see the fears I have of not being enough and raise them the fear that this just might be the best reason to keep going.

He is enough every minute of everyday.

Thank goodness.

when the wilderness is not a desert

It doesn’t sit with me, this idea that the wilderness is a desert. I mean, yes, it can most certainly be a desert, a desert of hopes, of dreams, of sins. Yet, I can’t help but feel in my soul that the rain is also a wilderness.

You see, I’m in the wilderness right now, I know it. The state of my soul has shown me that I am in the wilderness and that what I thought was a good season has not entirely passed, but the landscape shifted and I walked right into a place where I have felt alone, unloved, unnoticed, and beyond help.

If that isn’t wilderness I don’t know what is.

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