Your Daughter Waits For You

(a response to a cold, insulting, Thanksgiving Eve email from my father)

We have more in common than sets us apart. 
I wish there were more compassion and respect between us, 
however that level of relationship would require both of us to be humble. 
If one side refuses to budge while the other is ready to agree to disagree for the sake of love,
then the relationship might die. 
It takes two.
Spitting and spewing weapons of verbal assault will not help. 

And so we are at a crossroad where I stand weaponless. 
I see you in front of me armed with anything you can get your hands on.
I wait on you drop your weapons, but you must value them more than me. 
We may be here until one of us dies and even after, but my hope is that your hostility will die first. 
I do not ask you to change,but you refuse to let me be as I am. 

Why do you insist that I bend to your will?
I know you think your will is God's.
That there is only one way of believing.
That there is no such thing as interpretation,
although that is an interpretation in itself.
That my marriage is not a marriage and never will be.
That I have been tricked, duped, and brainwashed.
That you have forbidden me to do something as innocent as holding hands in front of you.

The conclusion is this:
I would have to be cut from a precise cookie cutter to win your approval.
There is only one correct and true identity in your belief system.
I can either "choose" to be that or be nothing to you at all.
But I'd rather be myself.
I do not put this pressure on you, but you fight relentlessly against me.
So who is to blame for the tension between us?
My romantic relationship with a third party has nothing to do with you and I.
Yet you take it personally.

You take it as a direct blow and offense against you.
Of course that is ridiculous.
You may not like what I do or believe, but I do not agree with your views either.
Yet I have not shoved my doctrine down your throat.
Somehow still, my existence threatens your belief system.
When I walk into a room, you become possessed by an uncontrollable desire to shout your beliefs at the top of your lungs.
This gets us nowhere.

I have heard your list a million times. What good does it do?
Why do you feel so threatened by me?
I sit here today and tell you that you are free to be you.
However, I wonder just how fragile your belief system is.
It seems that if anyone else exists who believes contrary, then you explode with anger.
Life on the defense doesn't sound fun to me.
I'd rather be so secure in myself, my God, and my beliefs that I can love the most different person than me and not get a single one of my feathers ruffled.

To me, this is peace. I want to live in peace.
I wish you could have it. I wish we could share it.
I am ready to coexist with you.
I am ready to mutually respect each other to the point that neither one of us ever tries to change the other person.
Just be. Let go. Let God. Live on.
Will we ever reach this point?
Here with arms wide open, your daughter waits for you.

An Ordinary Girl

An Ordinary Girl

No, she is not made of steel.
She is no super girl.
Sometimes she cannot fight for herself.
She needs you to step up in her world.

Stand up for her if you are real.
Stand up and give protection.
Stand in the face of villains great.
Stand up against oppressors.

For her throat is dust from talking.
Her eyes burn red from tears.
Her arms are weak from defending.
She curses all her years.

Surely you want her to live.
You don't want her to suffer.
Surely your love builds up.
Surely your care is gentle.

She needs your kindness and support.
She needs to be loved well.
She needs to not give up on life.
Hands to hold and ears to hear.

She deserves belief from you.
Her heart is tender still.
She is worthy of acceptance.
Celebrate her beautiful soul.

So cherish her for once.
Don't make her doubt herself.
Rejoice in her identity.
Take pride in all her depth.

For she is not made of steel.
She is no super girl.
Sometimes she cannot fight for herself.
She needs you to step up in her world.

What do you have to lose?

Thought Blurbs as of Late

What do you have to lose? I've been asking myself that question a lot lately. 

Sometimes, people can place paralyzing fear inside of your mind. 

Maybe they meant to.

Maybe it was a mistake.

Maybe they didn't know any better.

Regardless, it's there.

One bad reaction can make you isolate yourself so that you'll never have to react again. 

But this is no way to live. 

I don't want to be scared of losing people. 

I don't want to be afraid of being hurt by words, looks, or slights. 

The truth is that the first cut I endured was the deepest and the worst. 

It came from the worst person it could have ever come from. 

Better yet, no one could cut me at the same level. 

No one could ever even get close. 

The worst has passed. 

So, self... What do you have to lose? 

I suppose there are only things to gain from here on out. 

Maybe this is a good place to be in. 

Not on an island. 

Not in an egg crate that's half-filled with those who can be trusted 100% of the time. 

Free to live.

Free to love.

Free to be me. 

Open to new people. 

Open to old. 

Just open. 

I was made to think I was sitting at my table alone and that I deserved that. 

I asked for it. 

I should expect it. 

But there are chairs available.

The table has an endless amount of black spaces waiting to be filled. 

That's how it should be. 

I went from being an inter-connected continent to being a tiny patch of land surrounded by water. 

It is time to make bridges. 

It is way past time. 

Help me to not be scared. 

Help me to feel it is safe to branch out like I used to feel safe doing. 

Help my spirit to be unbreakable.

Help me to not live as if I have chains around my neck weighing me down.

These are mental chains. 

Chains that have been placed by another to hold me back, restrict my soul. 

There is nothing to lose. 

Only to gain. 

The Wounds Your Silence Brings Today

The Wounds Your Silence Brings Today

I don't typically harp on things like this, 
But I've lost the words to say.
I don't know if you can see the wounds
Your silence brings today. 

A milestone of my life is here.
I'm happily engaged.
When others share this special news,
Rejoice!... Cuz they're not gay.

But me? What do you do?
Say nothing? Turn the cheek away?
Don't share our love with anyone.
Don't treat us the same. 

"I'm strong. I'm strong!" I tell myself.
I'll live another day. 
Who cares if no one cares
Or shares my happiness today?

I'm expected to be the bigger one
The one who has to pay.
And act as if I'm invincible, 
As if I am not phased.

A smile can fool the hateful ones.
But, I plead... see through my face.
Walk a day inside my shoes.
Feel what I feel and can't escape.

I don't want you to change your views
Or alter all your ways.
I just beg you to be aware
Of silent messages you display.

And of the hearts of those you hurt,
Of those you hush with hate.
Of those who face oppression
For loving genders same

How do I go about this?
"Just be quiet," so you pray.
Tuck your tail and dip your head.
Accept your lower fate.

That would please you, I'm sure,
But I refuse to break!
I will not push under the rug
The unequal, silent hate.

So no, I don't typically harp on things like this, 
But I've lost the words to say.
I don't know if you can see the wounds
Your silence brings today. 

     I wrote this poem tonight. It touches on the feelings I've been having this past month. Coupled with the bliss I've been feeling because of my recent engagement are little stings that come from peoples reactions- or should I say, lack-there-of. When a girl and a guy get engaged in the small community I live in, it is immediately announced. Sometimes, it is even announced the day of! Verbal and written affirmation is given. All encourage the newly engaged couple and spread the word of their engagement. Obviously, they are of more value than those who do not fall in love with the opposite gender. Why? How do I know this? Because their news has more value, their lives seem to have more value in the eyes of some people. I see the different treatment. I feel it. It doesn't go unnoticed. I just wanted to share my silly little poem that shows some of the feelings I have had as of late.
     Be aware of what your silence does... to marginalized peoples in your world... whether by race, religion, ethnicity, romantic attraction, socio-economic status, or whatever! You fill in the blank. People are strong because they have to be. Just be aware of the depth of pain that silence can cause. The marginalized are not idiots; they see what you do or do not do, they hear what you say or do not say, and they feel at all times even if they don't let you see their pain. I am engaged to a woman who is the love of my life, and I will not be ashamed.

Signing out for the night. Have a blessed one.
~Holli

Oil, Flour, and Strength to carry on

   

     There is a story in 1 Kings about Elijah. God tells Elijah to go to a town called Zarephath. God said he had commanded a widow in town to feed Elijah, so Elijah faithfully traveled to Zarephath. As the story goes, the widow is outside gathering sticks for a small fire. She has a handful of grain and a small ration of oil. Her plan was to cook the last bit of food she had as a last meal for her and her son. After eating their last meal, she said she and her son would die. This proclamation did not phase Elijah. He said, "you will cook some food for me, then you will cook for you and your son." Even though the widow thought she was going to die, she cooked for Elijah. They ate for many days.

     At first glance, this story seems really cool and simple. God said there would be a widow in Zarephath to feed Elijah, Elijah went to the town, the widow cooked, and they ate for days. 

     But hello! The widow thought she and her son were going to DIE because they were out of food! And this complete stranger comes along asking if HE can eat the last bit of food they have. What in the world? I'm not sure what surprises me more:  1. The fact that Elijah seems like a jerk for taking this lady's last bit of food, yet has enough faith that God will provide food for them all, 2. The fact that the lady goes ahead and cooks for Elijah, Or 3. The fact that even though the odds were not in anyone's favor, the oil and flour never ran out! They not only ate one meal, but they ate for many days! 

At this time in my life, the 1 Kings story gets to me. I moved from South Carolina to North Carolina on a major leap of faith. I did not know where I was going to live or how I was going to afford life bills plus school bills. I worked 40 hours a week at Food Lion and Domino's Pizza, took a full-time load of Graduate classwork, and ended up renting a place to live. There was a time where I had to get food stamps. There have been many times when I wonder how in the world I am going to keep living the way I'm living for the next 3 years. 

I haven't been down to my last handful of grain yet. My oil has not run dry. 

Somehow, food has been on the table. Somehow, school has gotten paid for, Somehow, I have been able to work and go to school full time. Somehow, the rent has gotten paid each month on time. Somehow, there is always enough left for my car payment. And sometimes, I don't know how it happens, but it does. I am in Divinity School on a leap of faith, and my oil and flour have not run dry. I don't know if I would have had as much faith as Elijah did. I don't know if I would have gladly given my last meal for my child and I to a stranger. Also, I wonder if the widow was glad. Did she feel happy about giving her food away, or did she think she was out of food and going to die anyways? Why not die faster and give up now? Was she at the end of her hope and will to go on? 

The 1 Kings story is powerful. It gives a reason for HOPE, it gives a reason for FAITH, and it has encouraged me the past few weeks.  

"You've Been Grinding Your Teeth."

At the Dentist

I went to the dentist this past month for a teeth cleaning. I've always been told that I had very nice, pretty teeth. However, this visit was different. "You've been clenching and grinding your teeth," said the dentist. My jaw dropped. In my head I was thinking, "No way! This has never been an issue. What the heck?" Then, the dentist asked me if I was stressed. On the drive home, I pondered my stress (which was very easy for me to pin point). 

There is an idea and expectation that plagues my mind: "You need to be on your own when you finish college. Independent. Self sufficient. An adult." I think I've heard this my whole life. In fact, this idea of independence has been rolling around my head since I started Kindergarten. 

 Having an income is a necessity. To get a job, you have to have experience. When you get a job, you have to have an address. In order to rent a place to stay, you have to have proof of income. To travel to and from your job, you need a car or some type of transportation. The car uses gas. The car needs to be insured. The rental property needs to be insured. There are start up fees for all utilities: electricity, water, sewer, trash, gas, internet, cable, and whatever else you have. 

Then you decide that what you really need is a better job. The better jobs require higher degrees. Master's Degrees. Specialized Degrees. So you apply to graduate school. You have pretty good grades from college, so you get a scholarship. But wait! The scholarship can only go towards full time students. If you do school full time, you can't work full time; you must work part time. Part time jobs don't have any benefits like health insurance and dental... 

Conclusion: Life is hard, expensive, and stressful. 

I'm not really sure how most people do life without being in debt. I've been trying my best to do life without taking out student loans and racking up credit card bills. I'm hoping that a day will come where I don't have to live from paycheck to paycheck- a day where I won't grind my teeth in my sleep. Until then, I will press forward and make sure to wear my night-guard. 

Conquering Holli's Mind Games

Sometimes, I find myself wondering what the point is. What’s the point of going to grad school fulltime? Will something come of all this toil and effort? I’m not sure, and the unknown is a scary place.

As of a week ago, I just finished my first year of Divinity School at Campbell. I finally got a better job after a year of working at places like Food Lion and Domino’s Pizza. I am dating the person who I’m 99.99% sure I will be spending the rest of my life with (and that’s a pretty high percentage). The point is, there are good things happening in my life.

What I find curious is that the tangible, logical facts and events do not replace the feelings that I have inside. The unknown has the potential to be destructive and numbing.

When the years of studying and effort are finished, I will have two Masters Degrees: one in Divinity and one in Counseling. Hopefully, I will be able to find a job. The time between those events and now is a season of preparation. I must remind myself that this is a temporary season.

The moral of this tiny rant is this: I must be at peace with the stage of life I am in, and I must fully be present in it. Why? Because otherwise, fear of the unknown future could steal the joy and fullness away from my present; it could consume my mind and leave me in a constant state of zoned out doom.

I wanted to share my head issues with anyone who may want to read about them. Hopefully, we can all link arms and help each other through the unknowns of life and the future.  Let's avoid a major face-palm.