the liar, the bitch, and the warrior-fighting your way home


I blended in perfectly as the Liar. The choices I made to be liked, and admired and accepted moved me to the front of the line for that title. I wasn’t aware I was a liar, so to speak, for a very long time, but I can tell you now that in retrospect, some part of me knew I ditched myself. I settled, and I went along, just rollin’ with the homies. I welcomed the lobotomy of my life with open arms.

It’s time to get married.

I’ve got to move up in this job I hate.

I need to go to college.

Quit whining, this is just the way it is.

I’ve got to do this, achieve this, have this to be somebody.

I did logical things, made sensible decisions, worked hard to achieve the next title, studied things I hated and turned myself inside out to ace them. I brainwashed my own damn self to believe that all these things gave me value, made me special, and skilled and in great demand. Fuck.

I realized that I was somebody already, just as I was. I didn’t have to put on this dog and pony show to have value. I mattered simply because I took my next breath. I didn’t have to climb a ladder that took me to nowhere. I didn’t have to be who the world expected me to be, it didn’t have to be so hard.

When I finally realized that-I was pissed.

Enter the Bitch. Maybe I blamed my mother for wanting me to go to college and achieve greatness, or my friends for getting married and having homes and children, or society for silently pressuring me to be socially acceptable. Maybe it was my husband’s fault that I dealt with things I flat out had to rebel against. Why did I have to work this job, clean this house, study for years, and suck it up while I let life suffocate me?

Aha. I let it all happen because I had no clue who I was. I hadn’t met myself, or paid attention to what mattered to me. I was so busy rebelling against, I put no thought into what I should have been fighting for. I had to admit, in the end, that I was the only one who could make my life other than.

Thus, the warrior was born.

It’s crazy-mad-awesome to be a warrior. I say “no” when I feel I need to. I say “yes” when I want, even if it’s not popular to do so. I throw myself into things just to see what I think about them. I speak the truth, no matter how kindly, or I don’t speak at all. The circumstances I can’t change are temporary pauses while I create other choices for myself. I know I can change everything in my life by simply deciding to.

Enter wisdom.

Now comes timing, judgment and grace. Transformation needs a balance of courage and caution, wisdom and wild, fury and forgiveness. It’s balancing on a high wire with my sword in one hand, and my dreams in the other. It’s knowing there’s no net if I fall, but I just don’t give a shit because the journey is too important.

This is where the rubber meets the road. There are those who fail me. I let them go. There are those who talk to me as if I were holding myself hostage. I say no, I negotiated my own release. There are those certain that I’m having some kind of break down, I laugh and say I’m not breaking down, I’m breaking out. This is my Shawshank Redemption.

I’m just a Warrior fighting my way home…will you join me?

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