Safety Nets
When you hear "Christian Virtues" or "Christian Values," what comes to mind? When I was younger, I’d say it was all about waiting until you’re married to have sex and following the Ten Commandments, from that movie with Charlton Heston we’ve all seen. Honestly, that film terrified me when I was younger, but maybe that was part of the point.
Growing up for me, I would say was a bit of a tornado (I’m from the Midwest. I don’t know hurricanes. So, tornado it is). I was bounced between different homes. I have a younger brother who has been in and out of jail my whole life. My relationship with my mom was pretty up and down. Even today it fluctuates between closeness and indignation. My earliest memories were of living with my grandparents in a little yellow house, sneaking all of the raspberries off my Grampy’s bushes right outside the backdoor. Hiding and eating well over half. Then waiting to hear him get so (playfully) mad looking for his raspberries. Watching him beam with pride as his tiny “frog” with 2 pieces of yarn tied in bows around the pigtails my Grammy had put in, would come running out from behind the shed with the small bowl I picked for him. Although I had already eaten most of what I had picked, he still shared that little bowl with me. A biological dad, who didn’t pick me up to fly a kite as promised but I couldn’t remember his face. I remember that feeling though, and the idea of him. I did meet him later in life during a fit of teenage anger and rebellion and a few more times in my adult years before truly letting that go. Moving around, my mom’s remarriage that later led to my adoption by a man who has become my steady beating drum (yes, Pocahontas was one of my favorites. Go with me on this one). A man other men can only aspire to be. Followed shortly by yet another divorce and more turbulence. It all left a huge scar that sometimes I didn’t even know was bad. Emotional and past traumas often keep us hyper-focused, pushing us to forcefully seek reassurance and connection with others. Sometimes it gives us a nagging awareness that we are lacking and might need more. For some, more might mean wanting to feel appreciated and loved. So we look for that in a whole lot of inappropriate ways. For me, unaware that my circumstances were traumas, I led myself to make some really bad choices, inappropriate relationships/friendships, lack of boundaries, jobs, and places I knew even then, I shouldn’t be. I got pregnant in high school, have since been divorced… twice, and am now an unmarried mom of five. Two of them being adults with lives of their own now, I look back and wish so desperately that I had done so many things differently for them. It took me well until my 30s to finish college and earn a degree in a field completely unrelated to my current role, for which I am still repaying those student loans. I’m indecisive and impulsive at times. I fall back on the classic advice people give you, “Follow your heart”, “Live your life/truth,” and “Do what makes you happy.” Why do people say that? What does happiness even look like?
After my dad adopted me in third grade, I ended up with new grandparents who were very Catholic. Disclaimer: I am in no way criticizing that faith. If you've found peace and support there, you are truly blessed, and I am cheering you on. It was just a part of my journey that put more shame on me than I am comfortable with and sometimes still have a hard time putting it into words. When it came to religion as a whole, it was just overwhelming—so many rules and a whole lot of shame tied to them if you broke them. Like many others with a similar background, I ended up with a constant longing for something I couldn’t quite define. Looking back, it may have been nothing more than just a desire for a safety net. A place where I could feel secure and accepted, without expectations. For me, being divorced and an unmarried mother came with a feeling of a lot of shame. From time to time, those feelings still can creep back in. Everyone’s relationship with religion is uniquely theirs, and for my early self, it had been a mix of confusion, hurt, shame, resentment, and anger. I struggled with feeling lost with an inadequate sense of self-worth. I got caught up in unhealthy friendships, relationships, and jobs. I kept trying to reshape myself to fit what I thought made me valuable to others. Thinking that maybe this new person or situation might be my safety net in this area of my life. If I could just continue to move the boundary line I set only because they weren’t comfortable with it. Now, at 38, I look back and I realize they were still all MY choices, but my perception of what would make me feel that happiness and acceptance I craved, was way off. Things were tough, yes. It still is hard to talk about. People have let me down all on their own without all of my self-sabotaging tendencies. I even worry about what friends and family will think when they read this. Will they be offended? Do they know, I’ve forgiven them? I ask myself now though, if those hard things didn’t happen the way they did, where would I be? I bet I wouldn’t be who I am or where I am.
Where am I? I’m healing. I’ve built some great relationships and moved on from unhealthy ones. I’ve set new goals with a confidence I had only faked in the past. I’m at the beginning of my career journey which will lead me no doubt to my next opportunity. Every day I try to be a better mom and friend. I’m working on forgiving myself. I’m working on letting go where I need to. I am taking the first steps of my new faith journey. When I look back I can say confidently that God does have a plan for me. It’s real. Why do I think it’s orchestrated by Him? Because I have royally screwed up my life by using the excuse “I’m doing what makes me happy.” How did I come to this revelation? I said yes to one mission trip and it brought it all together for me. I can see the map, from then to now.
