“Learn to light a candle in the darkest moments of someone’s life. Be the light that helps others see; it is what gives life its deepest significance.” – Roy T. Bennet

Posts tagged ‘ugly’

What Hurts

IMG_1490Pain was necessary to make me who I am. Even though sometimes the thought of what I’ve gone through is crippling, I know for a fact that it was the turning point for my becoming. Without pain, I would never have held a relationship to the wild step of marriage. Without pain, I would never had given it my all to birth a child. I wouldn’t have the determination that I have now to experience life to its fullest. But, oh, how it hurt at the time.
When a fifteen-year-old finds herself at the mercy of two grown men, so many things can happen. I could have died. I could have been abducted, sold, lost. I was violated but so much worse could have occurred in that moment. I survived to have a family and a life of potential. It killed me then, but it drives me now to love beyond reason the harshest of humans.  Somehow I still see the light in this world.
In the year following that moment, I was dark in my soul. My mind shouted and my nails were used to scratch red, bloody words onto my skin. I wrote horrible notes to myself where no one would see them. To me, I was nothing. Ruined. A whore. I kept my dark secrets buried and let them simmer and shape me into a bitter cynic. I felt ugly, inside and out. And to me, every man, both young and old, wanted me as a toy to play with and then leave in the dirt.
What changed this horrible mindset? I had a mental disease that was eating away at my core. Whatever could possibly heal me of it?
There is a love that reaches deep into your heart and strengthens it and fills it where it once was empty. I may yet be cynical but I believe wholeheartedly that there is a God that mends the broken mind and drives us to live again. He let me realize that the darkness in me was my soul crying to be whole. I was not abandoned or ruined or the putrid heap I thought I was. I was loved. I was beautiful.
I hope that in my sharing of this there will be someone that will understand. Do not allow those that hurt you to win. You can still stand strong and tall and live life wonderfully. I hope you find the healing that I did. I hope you have better days. I hope you grow old with your family and can look back to see that pain only made you tougher and didn’t cripple you. You may still cry or flinch at little things but it will get better over time. Survive. Do not dwell on the past, as it cannot change, but it can change you for the better if you’ll allow it.

Phil

Once upon a time, a baby boy was born. Now, baby boys are born often enough, but this one was special. Well, he wasn’t really, not yet, that is.

This little boy grew up. When he turned fifteen he ran away, like many other nice boys his age. He was caught and sent home as he was jumping the neighbor’s fence. Punished, as usual. Then he turned thirty.

Whoa, whoa, just, whoa there. He didn’t go from fifteen to thirty. What I meant was, he grew up even more, and became a man. The years in between have little mattering to the story.

Well, Phil, ’cause that was his name, was a little plain. His nose was all bony, and his eyebrows were all bushy, and his ears stuck way out from his head. When he was thirteen, he’d wanted to join the army, and had gotten a buzz-cut. Yeah, he still had it. Girls just didn’t much like the sight of him.

So thirty, single, and not enjoying it, Phil began to wonder what was wrong. He figured it was because he didn’t have a beard, cause he was unable to grow one. He went to the store, and bought a Gandalf costume, and used the fake beard that came with it. Unfortunately, it made him look ridiculous, and he quickly dumped it.

Saddened by the fact that no girl would look his way, and that no matter what he did it just wouldn’t help, Phil gave up and decided to live out his life long dream to become a rockstar. Thankfully, he was turned down before he even got to knock.

And then he found Brittany, the perfect girl for him. She was only slightly less homely, with long hair and an honest face. When Phil walked up to her, his heart was pounding like a jackhammer. Could she be the one? Would his endless searching finally end? He was afraid to find out. But he spoke to her.

“H-h-hello,” he said.

My friends, Brittany took one look at him and spit in his face. Then she took off running. Too late, Phil realized he’d had a sudden case of bad acne, probably from sweating so much, and all his richest hopes were crushed, except one.

Brittany’s dog had liked Phil more than his owner did. When Brittany ran, Phil gained a friend. His first ever. His name was Edward.

Okay, maybe I lied about Phil being special. I met him once, he ran me off the yard with a shotgun.

 

 

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