“when did it all change?”

27.
On Easter Sunday I decided to start going to church again. I hadn’t since I was maybe fifteen or sixteen at the most recent. I have always wanted to create this commitment to something bigger than myself for a while, but never really got around to taking that final step.

This past year has fucking sucked to say the least. I honestly feel like it had a lot of highlights to the eyes of others, but at the same time a very heavy weight of some tough stressors. I held onto this death grip mantra that I would “LIVE & DIE” as a creative. Which I don’t really think I ever understood the difficulty of wrestling daily. You’re in it for your own expression, and the tangible attachment toward something you love, but you’re looking out of it for the sheer amount of unrequited stimuli failing to validate what you’re chasing.

I didn’t really have an anchor to commit fearlessly to the uncertainty of that purgatory. Until I started finding myself isolated from my peers, family, and friends. It became a bit more than that even, I couldn’t really feel a relationship that could match the level of depth I’ve been so desperately searching for. 

I honestly had gotten back into my faith around 8ish months ago. But finding a community was something that never really came to fruition. But in this isolation I found that anchor, in the form of scripture.

(Romans 5:3-5 NIV)
“The Holy Spirit builds our character through crisis: “We know that suffering produces perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”

And there it was. An anchor. I can’t help but look back at how much I’ve truly learned about myself & this world over the course of the year. So much about: showing up for yourself, not being intimidated by fear, not being scared, and not being afraid to have tough conversations with people. I learned that lying to yourself is the source of lying to others.

For the past 7 of those 8 months I’ve been feeling this immense shame. This shame like I’m some horrible person, or as if I don’t satisfy those around me. Or that I’m awful even.

I didn’t realize how such a heavy perspective of yourself could cause you to really hurt the people around you, and create a dynamic that’s divisive. In some moments I’ve been cold even, very very cold.

But now I know that at any given moment I don’t have to choose the identity of “that person” anymore, I don’t have have to be labeled as that person, and I chose on that Easter Sunday to accept what I could never give myself.

When I realized that God forgave me, for everything bad I’ve done and for things that I’ll do moving forward, I was able to set myself free from that prison I had stepped into because of intense judgement on myself.

I’ve learned to put a lot of my own happiness first rather than trying to appease or please everyone around me at the expense of my own energy, morals, and identity. 

I am me, and this past easter began the first day in where I felt removed from that version of myself I hated so much. 

This post is a confession for that, to the world for everyone to see as a piece of accountibility. 

This is Steven, the good guy.