The Truth Hurts

“We repeat what we refuse to confront.” -unknown

Many years ago, I overheard a negative conversation about me that really “rocked” my world. 

Flames of tension rose from my belly and saturated my temples until anger escaped my flared nostrils like gun-smoke.

Emotions of hurt summoned me into a defensive confrontational posture.

I submitted to flesh and shut the talk down momentarily but it continued to grow to whispers of grievances over the years.

Truth is—our best attempts will never silence critics that insist on shedding light on our unhealed vulnerable places.

In retrospect, I couldn’t understand why the conversation initiated such rage in me, because it didn’t contain an ounce of my reality.

Later, I realized those individuals spoke their truth, not mine. They spoke of their perceptions. I was a foreign object that never fully aligned with their ideal expectations. My presence irritated them. My spirit didn’t fit into a container. They couldn't diagnose what they failed to understand. It secretly vexed them. 

Somehow, this past experience filtered the lens of my most intimate relationships.

The toxic words of their conversation fed my insecurities.

It shaped my vulnerabilities.

It insisted that I was bad.

It confirmed the whispers.

It held me hostage to emotions.

So whenever conflict arose, I fled the scene to cover my vulnerabilities.

Most assumed my absence was a testament of rejection.

However, it was an outward response of the rebellion that grew within. (It was my way of rejecting me).

Sometimes, the truth really does hurt; however, exposing it will bring necessary healing.

This week, I separated myself from outside interference.

I soaked in quiet moments of deep reflection and my soul begin to open up to the beauty of things I took for granted.

I fell back in love with things that I had pushed aside, including me.

I rode my bike through the park and soaked up the sun.

I quieted my mind and read a book in one setting.

I did yoga and practiced guided meditations to eliminate anxiousness.

I danced to the Caribbean beat of reggae vibes for fun.

I laughed at my undercover extroverted underpants, cause I'm really not scared to take a chance.

I pushed through the knee pain and jogged a little on the treadmill.

I prepped and cooked healthy meals that I enjoyed.

I cried therapeutic tears to worship songs.

I prayed on an intense level for emotional healing.

Underneath the pile of distress, I recovered me.

My daily life adventures bought me clarity, gratitude, and closure.

Lord, thank you for loving me—even when I haven’t felt worthy or desirable. Thank you for loving me—in spite of what was broken, lacking, and missing. Thank you for looking pass my flaws, shortcomings, and imperfections. Thank you for daily doses of what natural eyes may never see. Thank you for grace, favor, mercy, and daily provision to stand in your truth—even when hurts.

“Any place we have to hide is not safe.” —Beth Moore

Thank you for the peace of His truth and the freedom to be me resting in my belly on tonight.