I have realized that other people believe in me. It came with me believing in myself; so much that I put myself out there to be judged and taken apart. In all my broken glory, and scarred realness, I put myself out there. Lo, they volunteered their belief in me! That was a powerful moment, because I received validation. But I couldn’t have, if I hadn’t dared to accept its denial.
I remember manipulating you, tricking you, begging you, and demanding from you, your belief in me – whispered in the privacy of a telephone call, on a moonlit night by the lake as we watched the stars, on a stroll along the beach, at my darkest moments, when the cold draft of loneliness threatened my soul. I asked for your empathy but where I had believed there was remedy, there was the mirage of a placebo. There was nothing.
It took me a while to admit, but there really was nothing.
The first time I thought that thought, I struggled with sadness. We always struggle with letting go that which we believed was real, for belief is an emotion of the heart. But I urged myself to consider it again. And again. And today, I have a new belief.
I build a picket fence around your opinion thinking it was the Garden of Eden. Now, I take it apart to sell it for scrap. I’m taking away everything I had to give- a heart, a hearth, permanence. But it’s time I set out my wares at the market again.
See me there, if someday if you find the courage to be raw and threadbare- for that’s what spirit is made of.