My Pain Had Purpose

I sat in the dark with a tall cup of Jameson in my right hand and Coltrane's saxophone blasting in my left ear. I asked myself “When was the last time you were able to just breathe?" Then my entitlement kicked in. I thought all my positive efforts were quantifiable. I thought about how many times I was nice to people and they still hurt me. I thought about how many times I poured hard work into things just to be left feeling empty. I reminded God that my GPA was great all through high-school and college and that I even graduated early as if he wasn’t there for it all. I couldn’t understand why someone who was always advanced, exercised integrity and worked hard like I was told to do all my life, struggled to find her purpose, let alone a job that didn’t pay in gum. Then in reflective thought, I examined all the things I went through in my life and what came out of it. 

I was abandoned, now I know how to be to present. Being abandoned by a parent taught me how to be consistently present in my relationships, not only physically but emotionally, mentally, and even spiritually. I spend time with my loved ones. I give them a safe space to vent to me without judgment. I care for and support their mental health. I provide them with as much peace as I can. We discuss God and the power of our words. We walk in our spiritual paths together. I encourage them to feed their soul. I am there for them in ways that I wish the people who abandoned me were there for me. I know the feeling of absence all too well. The cycle now breaks with me. 

I was abused and as a result, I learned how to handle people with care. I understand physical and emotional boundaries and how imperative they are. I am gentle with hearts. I am not perfect, and when I fall short, I give genuine apologies because I understand how powerful they are in aiding healing. It also taught me how hard forgiveness is yet how liberating it is. I am proud to know that I can do what is hard. 

 I’ve been rejected. Rejection taught me how to let go of the things that weren’t destined for me. Initially, it hurt but when life went on and I looked back, I scream out to the Heavens THANKING God for seeing what I couldn’t see. I didn’t know at the time I was moving towards danger and not destiny. Rejection also taught me growth. Rejection resulted in reflecting. It made me pay attention closely to my strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats in terms of my purpose and overall happiness. I became observant.  Lastly, it taught me how to appreciate what is for me because everything I have didn’t come easily. I am worthy of everything I have and what’s to come. My blessings are exclusively for me. I see their value. I am grateful for the gifts and things that I have now because I know how it feels to be without. 

I’ve been heartbroken. Not only did it grow my understanding of what a healthy relationship looks and feels like, but it also taught me how to love and how I want to be loved. Love doesn’t deceive. Manipulation and lust do. Love knows that you are worthy of the truth and genuine efforts. Love doesn’t have motives and doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. Love doesn’t need a bunch of chances to prove that it’s worthy of you. Those with good intentions and value your heart, actions will shine through stronger than their words.  I know love and I know how I want it to love me. That is why I don't just take what I can get. I take what I deserve. Love is my future husband. When I’m in his presence I want to forget that I have knees. I want to be so intoxicated by his presence that my whiskey is water compared to him. I want him to be the standard for my future children. I want to genuinely be able to tell him “You are worth all the phases and faces I had to go through to get to you.” I know life can be hard, and the world can be cold, but I want his arms to be my refuge. The sky may be falling but his love will sustain. When I meet you, God is going to say, “I told you so”. 

I put the glass of Jameson down, and turn down the record player. I cut on the lamp next to me, and I sit up from where I’m lying. I had to chuckle at myself a little bit. How could I be so blind? Everything I’ve been through, I didn’t come out broken, I came out golden. The same God who transformed me into the woman I am; wiser, stronger, more fearless. Is the same God who is going to continue to give me beauty for my ashes. I opened my journal and wrote down how my life changed in a year. I didn’t realize how much I overcame nor how much I’ve moved. Me being stagnant was a lie. Seeing it in writing made that clear for me. That was the sign I was begging for. Regardless of what I am going through, I now know that this too shall pass.