Sarah Nyhan

More things I had to give up on: being understood.

I’m kinda thankful now for all the people who rejected me. Who needed me to be the bad guy. So they could have an excuse to push me away. When things got a little too real. Or a lot.

Because you forced me to find myself. 

I was raised to be an echo. To fit into everyone else’s life as a supporting actor. Not to have my own life. Not to become my own person. 

E-fucking-xhausting! 

I never knew who I was for the longest. I was always just someone in service to everyone else. Showing up to dance to their whims just so they’d keep me around. 

And they did. Until I wanted some respect in return. Just a little fucking respect. Just a little fucking acknowledgement that they at least considered me worthy enough because I was human. Much less equality.

Nope, that was apparently too much to ask for. Serve or die. Shut up or die. RE-fucking-JECTED. Over and over. You’re not useful as a quiet tool to be exploited anymore? Get fucking lost. 

Sucks. Another thing I’ve had to learn: how to face the pain and accept the reality of the situations. How to let go of my narrative of what I thought was going on. When people clearly show me otherwise.

And the worst part: actually forgive. Actually live and be as if God really IS good in the face of so much humiliation and loss.

And this isn’t a defeatists’ mentality even if it sounds like it: but I truly believe God is only good. So then even the removal of the people I thought I wanted most has to be good in some way. 

(Admittedly not really ready to explore now if that theory applies to EVERYTHING in this human experience.)

But as it applies to most things I’ve deep-dived on in this respect thus far, seems like God letting relationships fall apart is always for my ultimate good and ultimate healing in the long run. No matter how upset I am about things not going my way.

Their rejection forced me to finally find myself. I never would have met myself if I had just stayed an echo of everyone. 

And that was a terrible place to be when I based my self-worth on who kept me around: zero security. I couldn’t stand up by myself for very long then. A day would have been quite the accomplishment. 

It’s because I was raised with no homebase. Every time there was any stability it would be ripped out from under me. Family, community, schools, friends, churches, homes, etc. 

I’m not mad at the travel aspect. I enjoyed that part: despite others saying otherwise and trying to use that as the excuse to escape responsibility for how they treated me.

But as an adult I can see that the whole lifestyle took a big hit on me developmentally, socially, and psychologically. Specifically that I didn’t know who I was. I had no anchor other than God and who I was with. And unfortunately I put too much weight on the latter.

It took me decades to learn. Screaming, crying, kicking, and fighting God all the way.

Surprising things also: thinking this whole time that you liked some things that you end up realizing later on that you only picked up because someone you wanted liked them. 

I mean there would be so many days where I would feel like a piece of trash floating completely aimless and powerless in the middle of the ocean. I had to build from the ground up something to tether myself to. I had to work for the past years to find the person I truly am inside. 

It sounds so stupid. So trivial. So full of myself. But it’s been everything. 

Unfortunately without the ending I wanted. Where I could convince everyone I wanted to join me on the journey. That has been one of the hardest things. 

To realize that happy endings in media are convenient. Are like a drug sold to us over and over. And are rarely realistic in actual Life. In actual relationships. At least in the short-term. And maybe only for as long as we insist on particular outcomes. Instead of embracing mystery by way of surrender.

To understand that most times this has very little to do with me failing as spectacularly as they’d like to make it out to be. So they don’t have to do the work. 

I have to let go without being understood. I have to let go without any guarantee things will ever get better in the future.

I have to give up in order to save myself. Which I absolutely hate to do. But they force me to choose. They give me no other choice. 

Sadness. Grief. Anger. Exhaustion. So tired of this same story over and over. 

But trying to pretend otherwise is no longer possible. I am all tapped out after decades of this shit. I have no more capacity for masking just to keep the peace. 

Have you looked around? It’s not a game out here anymore. Real Life is hitting us. Square up or get rolled over. And under.

I can’t. I won’t. I’ve worked too hard to get the shred of dignity and sanity I was able to mine still hold onto. And fucking happiness while we’re at it.

You take the pills. You smoke whatever it is y’all are smoking. You keep taking hits off the attention you settle for in whatever relationships. You keep your face in those screens. Shit hard out here. I can’t even knock it. Can’t even knock you. 

But you know I’d be abandoning myself if I did the same. After all I’ve been through to get here even as this. As the version of myself that I still am quite far from being happy with.

It’s really all okay. In the end and now. For me. That’s what I tell myself as I am doing the work. Imperfectly – unfortunately. Because I am so human. So not God.

I gave up. I surrendered everyone else’s perception of me to God. I surrendered all my relationships to God. All the outcomes to God.

I just show up the best I can. Try not to kill myself by taking everything too seriously. Try to find some god-damned fucking happiness in this crazy-ass human experience. And try not to waste Love when it happens for me. Try to not waste beautiful days when they show up. Or as I make them.

But overall learn to Love myself. Not to fall into some weird obsession with myself – very much ew and ick! But Love as in learn to validate my own experience. And learn to take care of myself. Even half as well as I tried so hard to take care of everyone else all this time. 

I was taught to wait for everyone else to take care of me. Then I learned I had that power. To be my own. Period.

When you’re a kid it’s not your fault. And you can’t do better until you know better. 

But now that we’re adults we get to decide. For better or for worse. 

And I choose Life. I choose Love. I finally choose Me.

No matter how anyone or even everyone treats me. No matter if I’m ever understood or not.

I had to make peace with not being everyone’s cup of tea. Not waiting to LIVE my Life until everyone approves of me. Not waiting any fucking more to be me until nobody has a problem with every last thought and action I choose to take.

I’m taking my power back. Not giving myself away for free anymore.

I am just as worthy as anyone else to exist without the permission of each and every person’s whims. End of story.