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Writer's pictureLynn

A long road..

Updated: Jul 23






We each have a unique story of where we came from and who we are and where we want to go. Each of us is different, not one of us is exactly the same, nor of higher value than another. What makes a specific life story special is that it is yours- an awe-strikingly wondrous gift given to you alone. A gift that no one can steal.

 

Now I shall bequeath to you a glimpse of my past; Enjoy!


I was born in Arizona. I didn't really know my dad till I was a bit older, but when I did get to know him, he quickly became one of my greatest role models and my most enthusiastic supporter in life. He was a scientist and taught me about the subtle wonders of life, along with virtue and integrity, much of which I didn't appreciate until only recently. My mom has always been the breadwinner and through all my life I watched that woman work as hard as any man would- I watched her grow from a single teenage mom studying hard in college, into a supportive mother, running her own mechanic business. I always admired her diligence, and care to give me and my siblings everything we need and did all she could to fuel our aspirations and dreams. She is one of the best examples I have of persistence in the face of loss, destruction and trials, and she is my mother. A beautiful gift.


The biggest turning point in my life was when my moms first husband died of suicide. It was a hard thing for me to wrap my 8 year old mind around. My sisters and I went into counseling and ended up being moved into the foster care system, from which I then went to live with my dad.


My mom married again and moved to Indiana, but then after hearing about the death of my second step dad, I began to really start going down a rough path. I started flunking in school and arguing with my dad constantly. Though much ambition seemed to be gone from me, art and music became my lifeline. I would sit in my room for hours listening, memorizing and singing songs off my favorite albums. I was always good at drawing and had a drive to express myself creatively though my hair, clothes and living space. I became very rebellious though, and things got so bad with me and my dad that I asked my mom if I could move in with her.


She gave me a clean slate, and hoping for the best in me, she pushed me to succeed which sadly, fueled my rebellion. To grasp onto some semblance of control in my life, I developed some pretty bad eating disorders, and coupled it with self-harm practices which created a prison in my mind that no amount of counseling or hospital visits could fix.


I associated love so closely with pain that I defined love by how much pain they would go through with me, so deliberately hurting my friends and family was what I perceived as the best way to see who truly loved me, but all it did was push further those I most loved.


One day a lie crept into my head- I actually chose to believe that my own mother didn't love me. That was what shattered everything. See, all she ever did was try her best to help me, but all I ever saw were lies and illusions proving to me that I was only a burden. I alienated myself and begged to live with my dad, which didn't go well at all. I felt that the justice system let me down, so there was only one logical conclusion in my mind- I had to run away.


When I was 16, I ran away for three months, leaving a disaster in my wake. I took a bus to Chicago during the "occupy wall street" protest, so I always had a place of refuge for food, clothes, and sleep. After a while, I hopped a freight train for a 30 somethin hour trip to New Orleans. Camps were set up in front of the city hall, and meals were handed out each night and day. During this time, I experimented with harsh drugs, but found that I didn't care for any of them. After a while, I traveled with a group to Pensacola Florida, and stayed with an elderly lady who had camps by some train tracks. Two weeks passed before I got bored and hitchhiked back to New Orleans where I then went with a group on a boxcar to Little Rock, where I ended my journey and took a greyhound back home.


There are times now, when I wish I did well in school, created healthier relationships with my family and friends, didn't end up running away, and set a good foundation for myself, but I have come to recognize the beauty in my ashes and the person I have become because of the difficulties.


Though my youth was filled with things I shouldn't have done, I wouldn't trade it for anything. When I came back, it was a time when I was rescued; when despite my major faults, I was unconditionally loved. Before I ran away, I had been talking to a guy from California, and he told me something that forever changed my life. He told me that he saw innocence in me, buried beneath my faults and failures. I still don't know if he really understands the depth of what happened that night- he caused me to consider for the first time, the possibility of a part of me that was still pure, a vision of myself that I had, until that night, completely forgotten. He brought a spark of light into me.


I still was easily given into my feelings, and self harming tendencies. I can recall one particular night when I went into the bathroom and took a razor to my wrist. What I saw changed everything. A small silver shard was sticking out from the incision. I tried to make sense of what I was seeing and then I realized it- I sliced through my tendon. Right then I became very weak and began to faint. If I had successfully fainted, I would have bled out and died, but just before I hit the ground, light and love seemed to have flooded into my body, and I realized that I actually do want to live; live for something bigger than myself. Instantly I gained composure and my foggy mind became clear. Its a wonder that I can still use my hand, with nothing but a scar to remember the night when I realized that I am alive for a reason, and that life is a gift.


There are many stories that make up my life- some simple, from the eyes of a child, others are more complex, from the eyes of a hurting and broken girl. All are highly valued and deeply cherished, for they make up my life, and hidden within all of them is the essence of life.

 

Now, I work on my paintings, music, and other creative endeavors whenever I'm not busy with homeschooling 3 little ones of my own.


The greatest thing I've learned, is to love, and allow myself to be loved in return. When I choose love, I set my soul free, and once freed, the trials in life actually turn into opportunities to broaden my mind and sink further into peace.


I will part here with a gift- a blessing that you too, dear reader, will also follow that peace, sink deeper into the lover inside your soul, and let love fan the flames of your true will!


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