my naked truth.

you see scars on my wrists covered by rainbow threads and think:
statistic.

you think someday i will be found face down in my dorm room.

but I am stronger than a percentage.
i am a mighty oak.
my roots dig deep into this nutrient rich soil,
my family surrounding my solid foundation.

my strongly built trunk is scarred and tattered.
every mark tells a story of trauma.
and of healing.
every ring counts another year of my life.

these branches reach out to spaces yet to be discovered.
yet to be touched.

my growth is altered.
but constant.
shaped by both wind and will.
storm and strength.
both external.
and internal.
but i stand tall.

want to know my truth?
the truth that resides in this trunk?

my scars are from family fights.
and being told that i'm wrong.
that my whole being is wrong.

feelings for a girl in the third grade?
those are chosen. and unnatural.

they're from hating my breasts.
and my hips.
and wanting nothing more than that train set my brother got for christmas.

my scars are from words.
words spoken by those who "love thy neighbor as thyself."
so why was i their exception?

my scars.. are from me.
but so is my healing.

here's the thing about healing.
it begins at the moment of injury.
and can take days, months or even years.
but there will always be a scar.
altered skin.
never to be the same.

just as my skin had to renew.
regrow.
so has my soul.

i have grown the courage to own my truth.
to define myself.

the courage to say, i am neither male nor female.
i am both.
i am neither.

i am a child. not a daughter.
a sibling. not a sister.
i am a lover. partner. significant other.
not a girlfriend.

you see.. my gender.
it's between my ears.
not between my legs.

and this brain.
it's ever changing.
ever growing.

god, pain and meditation.

"Undoubtedly, the mind is restless. And difficult to restrain, but it is subdued by practice. And detachment."

Krishna, The Bhagavad Gita.

My life is so much more whole when I practice meditation and yoga on a daily basis. It brings so much healing to my soul.. and I've recently started understanding why. I know that peace and contentment are natural outcomes of meditation, but for me, it’s more than that. There is another reason. 

I know that I harbor a lot of wounds and pain in my heart, and I know that a lot of that has come from religion, god, and church and 'religious' or 'spiritual' people. I've spent the last 6 years trying to bury it and act like it hasn't hurt me as much as it has. This pain is triggered every time I come into contact with someone who talks about god, church, etc., every time i think about or talk to people that I used to be close with, or every time (although it's not often) that I enter, or even walk by, a church. If I hear a worship song while scanning through the radio stations.. come across pictures of my best friends in high school.. It's like those wounds are cut open again. And it happens in the one place that I was taught I was supposed to feel safe.. when in all reality, that would be the last word that comes to mind when trying to describe how I feel in these situations. 

In those years, I was taught that who god is, is very clearly defined.. as are his expectations. I was taught exactly what god would say in any given situation, how god would feel about any particular "choice of lifestyle", and I was taught the way to act in order to live a life that would be 'pleasing unto him.' I fully invested myself into all of these things that I was taught and was, for the most part, everything my church leaders wanted me to be. I held my hands high during worship, spoke in tongues when they prayed it into me, started a lunch-time worship ministry in my high school, brought friends to church week in and week out.. spreading the message that everyone needed to hear. I was taught to never question. Never doubt. The word of god was absolute truth and every word coming from the pastor's mouth was given to him from god himself. And to question or doubt would be not having faith in god.

A lot of these 'expectations from god' that I was taught were made clear without using words... all while being masked with the words, "we are just humans, there is no way that we'll be able to fully understand him. we are here to love each other, not judge." but the non-verbals were sending a different message. For example.. I was never taught that gay people were going to hell. Nobody in the church would ever be caught saying that. Because "jesus forgives all sins.. and they just sin differently than I do." But I do remember being encouraged to take my friends shoes and place them on the alter.. to pray that he would be set free from "spirits of homosexuality." Again.. it's all in the messages sent without using words.

Since then, I'd like to think I've removed myself from that community and from that way of thinking. But the more I think about it, the less I think either of those things are actually true. While I did distance myself a bit from a lot of people I was close with, I'm not entirely sure how much of it was actually my choosing. After "coming out", nobody treated me the same. Nobody talked to me the same. Nobody looked at me the same. All of a sudden, the looks of familiarity and excitement to see me when I'd first walk in the door turned into this shocked, i-don't-know-how-to-act-normal reaction. All of a sudden, I wasn't being invited over for “girl’s night” or coffee dates anymore. Because god-forbid, if a girl uses the word “date”, I might get the wrong idea. Then start flooding in the stories of, ‘so-and-so thinks that because you guys used to hold hands, you were in love with her’ and ‘so-and-so thinks that when you used to say ‘I love you’ that you actually meant it as more than friends.’ Then these people that I used to call ‘best friends’ wouldn't give me a hug anymore. I wasn't asked to babysit anymore. I was rarely invited to people’s houses, and on the off chance that I was, it would be prefaced with the familiar, “you’re more than welcome to come over.. but we’d prefer if you didn't (insert “gay” behavior here).”

You see, god’s opinions are very clearly defined in this church world, remember? And god, well.. he doesn't approve of this “choice of lifestyle”. And allowing ‘people like me’ into their homes would be inviting those ‘spirits of perversion’ into their homes.

There have been times in the last few years that I decided brave going to church with my parents if I was in town on a Sunday. Almost always, I’d walk in the door cautiously.. but somehow hoping that things would have gone back to normal. I’d be welcomed with open arms. And by open arms, I mean genuinely open arms.. not the kind of open arms of people who are happy to see me back in church and hoping that I am open to making some changes in my life. But every time.. that is what I was met with. Either the very obvious silent celebrations, as if my ‘return to church’ was some success they could count as an answer to their prayers, or cold, emotionless-but-trying-to-be-friendly smiles from a distance, but no real exchange of words.

And as for removing myself from that way of thinking.. it still haunts me. I still struggle accepting and loving myself. I push the idea of there being a god completely out of my mind, because if I acknowledge that god might exist, I feel like I’m agreeing with them about my “choice of lifestyle”. I push myself to learn about other religions, trying with all of my might to reject the idea that the god I learned about is the only thing out there in this universe.. but those voices come back to me every time. Telling me it’s not okay to question. It’s not okay to learn about other faiths. Telling me that if only I could live according to this book written by humans in another lifetime that, for the most part, does not apply to my life... I would be happy again. I feel like it’s torment.. but I know their answer to that. Torment is what comes along with this “choice of lifestyle.” This choice to live in sin and turn my back away from god. If I would only turn back to him, he could make everything better. I feel like I’m walking around, living life with an 80 pound vest strapped on my body. Like the straps get tighter and tighter with every breath I take.

Until I roll out my yoga mat, sit myself gently in the center with my legs folded underneath my body, and shut my eyes. In those moments, I can feel my spirit again. I feel that freedom I used to feel. Suddenly, this sense of complete peace is no longer tied to this strictly defined ‘god’ that I spent years learning about. The god that doesn't love me for who I am. The god that has, over time, taken on the voice of church leaders teaching me that I’m not living in a way that is pleasing unto him.

Suddenly, that peace is felt with a freedom that is indescribable. A freedom that I have missed with everything inside of me. I am overcome with love.. not just in myself, but surrounding myself. A love that knows no judgment. A love that brings healing and refuge. It’s like feeling your skin absorbing the warm rays of the sun. It’s like hearing a song that moves you beyond words. It’s like hearing the ocean waves that calm your soul. Where it doesn't matter what I’m going through, what mistakes I've made, how much money I have or how many belongings I own… there is no judgment. There is just me and this incredibly powerful, overwhelming love.

I think this is what it’s supposed to feel like. 

my ladder.

As I woke up this morning, I was immediately confronted with so many things weighing on my mind. Four months after walking across that stage and being the first in my family to graduate college.. I am still unemployed. Today is the last day to pay rent and the bank still hasn't refunded the money they owe us. What food do we have in the fridge that I can be creative with to come up with meals for the rest of the week? Why am I just waking up at 11am?

This isn't at all how I imagined life after graduation... I imagined this adorable apartment, decorated perfectly. Falling asleep happily snuggled up next to my love every night, waking up early together to have breakfast and say goodbye as we both leave for jobs that we're actually happy doing. Coming home and cooking dinner together. And actually having money to start trading the 'college lifestyle' in for nicer, more reliable belongings.

Instead, I'm continually finding all of these *perfect* jobs, but lack the experience necessary to even be considered. Struggling to pay bills and to put food on the table, which I suppose would imply that we actually owned a dining room table. Half of the days that I try to get out of the apartment, my car won't start. I stay up late on pinterest, turned away from my love so the light of my phone doesn't keep her awake, either searching for something to make the next day from the random, ignored ingredients we've had in our kitchen for entirely too long, or reading inspiring quotes trying to encourage myself to not give up. I then oversleep, waking up disappointed in myself, with half of the day wasted away. Not knowing where to start or how to stay positive.

Somethings. Got. To. Giiiiiiiiive.

Today.. I got this in my inbox from Notes from the Universe: "At any point in one's life, Kris, the greater the uncertainties they face, the greater their chances of hitting a major, life-changing home run." And I'm hoping with every bit of hope that I have in me that there is truth in that.

I know that one of these days, I'll catch a break. I'll land a job. And although it may not be one that feels perfect in this moment, I will at least have something to stand on. The first step of my ladder taking me to where I want to be. If you miss that first step, your whole journey feels unstable. For some people, that first step is the perfect job, the perfect place, the perfect people, the perfect situation.. and for others, it takes a few steps to get there. For some people, their ladder has more steps on it, and they have to work harder to get to the top. But those people will know the struggle it took to get there, and fully appreciate every small success... knowing that they're getting to where they want to be.

I'm starting to feel like I'm one of those people, and I'm starting to be completely content with it. My life will never be perfect.. but I will never stop climbing my own ladder.