Unloving You
There was a poem that I found by an
artist called Sierra DeMulder her poem was called “Today Means Amen”. I loved
it. I am such a fan of spoken word and the emotion trapped behind a single
beings words. There was one part where she said “Do you remember the moment you
realized they were watching? When you became ashamed of how much light you were
holding? When you first learned how to unlove yourself?” That part made me
realize time travel is possible. I traveled back to a time when I was about 5
maybe 6 tops. I was in Sunday school and this little girl was handing out candy
to everyone and realized she had extra. She said tot eh teacher “Can I hand out
the extras to my friends?” And the teacher said yes. That’s the first time I
wondered if there was something wrong with me. I remember her handing out pieces one by one
and the hope that danced in my belly that she would stop at me and deem me enough
to be a friend. But no I was not chosen. You see I haven’t thought about that in years.
And I am not exaggerating I haven’t thought of it since the day it happened. It’s
been 20 years. You may think “Nikki that’s way too much thinking.” But honestly
it took me a car ride to work to remember this. A car ride is no more than 5
miles. It’s amazing how something so little and so insignificant that can cause
a wheel to start spinning. Can you remember when you “Learned to ulove
yourself?” The next time was a bigger thing for me I was about8 and lightening
had struck the tree out back and my best friend at the time was over to help
clean up. And I remember thinking that how happy I as that he was my best
friend and how I couldn’t love him more than that. I began to think if I could
love any boy like that and I began to hate myself because in my world at that
time that “Love” was wrong.
Now lets put on the breaks shall
we? Yes as an 8 year old I remember these thoughts and I am not just saying
this to make an emotional blog. 8 years olds are smart and thinkers. They have
brain and emotions too and I remember that Nikki at 8 years old in her white
shirt from VBS and worried that the dirt from the cornfield might get on my
shirt from the struck tree. And I was raised Christian. And anyone who points
their fingers at my parents and says they caused me to “Unlove” myself needs to
have that finger broken. I made the choice to closet myself for 20 plus years
and I chose to no read and study the scripture to see what it really says. No
one forced me. I chose it and I chose to hide. My parents love me and love my wife.
Lets get back to the blog shall we?
Oh yes I am 8 and dragging a huge piece of tree behind me deep in thought. So
from then on I realized I was different and I saw how that was not normal. So I
began to unlove myself and as I got older destroy my body. I was a cutter for a
very long time. I have scars that paint across my arms to remind me of a battle
I waged in my soul.
Do
you remember when you unloved yourself? When your beautiful dancing and singing
became an annoyance to others? When you’re beautiful different became an ugly
closet? I don’t care if you are gay or straight we all have our own closets to come
out of. We all have that perceived ugly to mild back to the beauty it once was.
I remember when I began to love
myself again. I was out on my own laying in my bed after my work place burnt
down and I said to myself “Nikki you might be gay.” And then I prayed that lie
away. It was a very long journey to accept my sexual orientation. And even longer journey to accept my love for
others. And a longer journey at that to accept my beautiful body. (still on
that one by the way.)
Every time I come across someone
different than I, I remind myself that they are fully aware of their
difference. I am sure that they have nights
that eat them alive and the voices remind them constantly that they aren’t the
same as me. But I hope to be the voice of celebration in their life that rejoices
that they are different than I am. Celebrate that with those people in your
life. Help them learn to love themselves. Don’t be that memory that helps them
to unlove.
I just got another tattoo that
say “NON OMINIUS MORIAR” It means not
all of me shall die. I believe that we all leave an imprint in this world. Will
yours be a slap in the face to those different, an ugly word of rejection to
those who walk a different path, or will it be a soothing balm to the world
that is so blistered but the burning hate inside humans? What will live beyond
your years? Love?
You choose.