The NOT Being

I have been attacked. The devil has dug his spiny claws into my back trying to claim me as one of his own. For a moment I bought into his lies. I told myself that in this season of solidarity that I should completely relinquish all of my past to move on.

That is a lie.

My season of solidarity was constructed to place total dependence on the father rather than myself, instead I tried to totally isolate myself from my past.

Let me tell you a bit about me. My life has been on the move since I was two months old. I know nothing else but traversing. Moving had become so ingrained in my person that I began to adopt all the characteristics of someone who had no structure. Not in the sense of boundaries or morality, but rather as a function to hold on to relationships and experiences. I loved deeply, so when I became friends with someone it was never a surface level friendship. I loved so deeply and so profoundly that when I must leave, part of me gets torn apart. One might presume I am being existential but truly I feel everything. So, to dim the pain I started to release myself from them. This left me with a lot of “once friends” and untouchable memories.

Recently I found myself in a situation where I forcibly tried to pry a friendship apart to spare myself for future loss. This time, however, I did it with my soul sister. I wanted to let her go in order that I could move on like I usually did.

I was sitting in a Kindergarten classroom watching children engaging in play, and there I was, feeling trapped and alone. I did what any sensible person would do and I wrote out an eloquently written “friendship breakup text,” signed with my name for dramatic effect.

In turn, I got a “What the heck?”

I tried to explain my perspective but the more I began to text the more I realized how broken I was. I had convinced myself that I wasn't worthy of any true friendship. I tainted the idea of a nomad into something that it was not.

If it wasn’t for my friend’s wise words I believe I would have continued to believe this lie that I contrived for myself.

She told me about the worthiness of who I was. That I wasn't just another ordinary face, that my story truly mattered. Instead of fighting her I sat there and listened.

Yes, I've been attacked but my God is stronger.

He told me I was worthy of a love far greater than any love this world has.

My father told me that he loved me so much that a sacrifice was placed for my name.

I am worthy. I am worthy of love, of friendship, and of acceptance of myself.

No longer will I believe in lies.