This post is Grassroots, meaning a reader posted it directly. If you see an issue with it, contact an editor.
If you’d like to post a Grassroots post, click here!

0.1
August 4, 2021

A Castle Built From Sand

Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.

I have some things on my mind, some thoughts which have nowhere to roam. But these thoughts need to out themselves somewhere. They need not reveal themselves in some secret journal, the time for secrecy has drawn to a close actually. It is time to have the courage to stand in my power, in my unusualness. My rareness has actually never been a burden, I was just made to believe that so that I would behave better and be more understandable to the person whom I was making uncomfortable, purely because the way I breathe life is just different to most others.

I am in the midst of divorce and it has been a rough road, as all divorces are. I have my final court date, fancy that it falls on the 11th of a month, a symbolic message from The Divine I would like to believe. People who know of the circumstances have congratulated me and made their pleasure of this date known, but I don’t feel very happy right now. While their congratulations comes from a place of innocence, it is hard not to feel alone in my pain in many areas of life. I am blessed though, I have a special friend who truly understands, and her existence in my life makes things seem much sweeter in my attempt to do more than just bare things right now.

The men in my life have many similarities, this shows up in too many ways to ignore. I would have done anything to earn their approval, and I genuinely adored these men, for a time that feels like it was very long to me.

Even though I feel relieved to be walking out of my marriage, I do ponder why I feel so sad that it is ending. I ran away, almost 5 months ago now, and yet I feel sad about the finality of things. I am shown visions of my spiritual body, she has gashes on her face from soul damage, and these wounds are currently bleeding and oozing out rot. I am shown massive healing, but to get to that point I must first bleed out the toxic beliefs and trauma-response based patterns.

At first I thought I was feeling this way because I had worked so hard to earn approval. The knowledge that loving someone enough to make them love me is not possible, has in essence brought me to my knees. Figuring that out has been hard, but the realisation that followed has been a much harder pill to swallow.

My biggest “regret” in life, only for lack of a better word, is that I was born a girl. I feel that I have adored and loved the prominent men in my life, and tried so hard receive the same depth of love in return. In essence, my reality has taught me that the respect shown for females has never been the same as the respect shown for males. I see it with my own children, my son seems to be preferred to my daughter. My daughter is not precocious at all, she is quite sweet and offers very grown conversation for such a small girl, but she is just not a boy. I need to change my thought patterns so I can behave in a way that might possibly change her internal reality through my example.

In many ways I never would have truly earned the respect I had craved within my marriage. I tried, I died inside trying, I gave so much of myself away trying, but it never would have come to be. I see that now.

From a young girl I had been obsessed with finding a boy who would accept me for me. A boy whom I would not have to behave well with to gain their respect and admiration. If I was in a bad mood, I would still be acceptable as human being. As his reward, I would give him my whole world, and feel safe in the belief he would hold it lovingly and be protective over the gift of that personal sacrifice.

I had children and envisioned a perfect family of craziness, but where genuine love, a sense of support and acceptance could be found. It was the dream. I put in a lot of work, rivers of tears and large parts of my soul into making it a reality for myself, but in truth it just wasn’t enough and it never would have been.

My seeming failure to achieve this during any stage of my life has made me believe that I am not good enough as a woman. I just haven’t felt that I have ever really received the respect that I have always craved, even though I have honestly worked twice as hard as any man I have known in order to earn it.

The actual truth is that these men are not able to rise up to the same standard I am able to meet, especially as a woman fighting to be seen as strong and as respectable as a man. The very way I exist seems to force others to question their own. I suppose it can be a little de-masculating for many male counterparts within our species. There are some rare men who would not be perturbed this, but who knows where these men situate themselves, I certainly haven’t met any.

I am legitimately giving up on a dream, one which I had put together with sand and built into my own castle as a young girl. The trouble with a sand castle is at any time a rogue tide can wash it all away. That little girl inside of me has been feeling quite devastated, looking at the limp and wet sand where the one she had spent years and energy building used to stand tall, adorned with sea shells and other personal treasures. I have been contemplating where to go from here, washing off the sand that has clung and clumped upon my hands.

In my new life I want to love and accept myself fully as a woman. I want to show myself the respect I deserve and therefore gain that respect from others, purely because I couldn’t and wouldn’t accept anything less. I want to be brave enough and bold enough to be myself in my unique rarity, even if I don’t feel it all the time, and not feel so afraid of the consequences of not being seen as “well behaved”. I want to teach my children to always live from a solid foundation of self-love and self-respect, no matter who they may grow to become. And I want to be content, I have earned that much.

But first, first I must bleed.

Leave a Thoughtful Comment
X

Read 0 comments and reply

Top Contributors Latest

Lindsay Booysen  |  Contribution: 2,500