I know, I suck at keeping dailyblogs updated. I’m sorry. It’s strange for me to have lived so many years compulsively needing to write out all of my feelings and emotions. I suppose time changes all of us in different and often unexpected ways.
I was flabbergasted and beyond hurt a few years ago when I spent time opening up my wounds and writing an (actual) novel-length memoir of some of my experiences. I wrote it because I am an imperfect person, and I just wanted the people that were putting me down and treating me like I was sub-human to see my story and say, “Ohhh, she IS a human being. Maybe I should treat her like one.”
They didn’t. They used my vulnerable act to cut me even deeper. One of them outright lied and completely denied to others that she said and did the things to me that she did, and people humiliated me even further.
Now, someone from my past, whom I do not have a good history with, (unrelated to any of the aforementioned) has come forward after many years, and they have begun to tell me their story.
I was touched. I want to keep learning more about their story. I can already tell it is going to change my perspective on our past. While this person’s story doesn’t excuse or erase the past events that happened that caused me a lot of pain, it does remind me that they, like myself, are a human being with their own history, pain, traumas, struggles, and even strengths. I don’t know that this person and I will ever be close, but I do think that their willingness to finally tell their story is courageous, because they know it puts them in a vulnerable place.
I am not like the people from my past. I will receive this person’s story with an open heart, with mercy, and with kindness. I will get to know them from their words written from their perspective, and I will re-examine their past actions with their story in mind. I will allow myself to get to know them through their own eyes, and I use their words and their gesture to help myself heal.
I will be kinder to the person that hurt me the most, than those from my past have ever been to me. And in doing so, I can know in my heart that I am nothing like the person they tried to paint me as. I am imperfect and always will be, no doubt about that, but I am making better choices toward others than they made toward me. And if this person has anything at all in common with me, I know it will mean the world to them that they are willing to be vulnerable to me, and that I am not using that to my advantage.
We learn, and we grow. I am so grateful to feel peace in my heart.