Being. A. Human. Is. Weird.

So, like, I just moved across the country and I’m trying to figure out my life.

I feel like I’m about to go through another metamorphosis. Growth and grounding.

Usually I blog about things I am certain of. But I have more questions than answers and sometimes… sometimes I just want to write about the questions.

I have lost much, but my heart still beats and loves in ways I cannot even fully write. I just feel and I know and I live.

I am not supposed to exist.

My myself-ness is stubborn and persists, and I have never fit into anyone’s expectations for me.

My parents could not force me into the dutiful dentist daughter they’d imagined, carrying on my father’s footsteps. Churches and their leaders could not convince me that Jesus was held captive within their walls. Anti-theists are annoyed that I still believe in God after my strange, isolated childhood and the hurt that churches inflicted.

I love living in Texas, even though many friends in Colorado said that I shouldn’t move. I love theater, even though my father said it might turn me gay. I love my spiritual mentor and childhood hero even though one of my closest friends in college said it was an unhealthy obsession.

And I love these friends who said these things, I value them, they are all beautiful humans, but they have never been able to make me into their own image.

Nothing has ever been able to kill these loves of mine. Nothing has stopped my journey, just delayed it. So for these questions burning in my heart… I think there will be answers.

I am myself…

2 thoughts on “Being. A. Human. Is. Weird.

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