November 4, 2022
I am listening to LANY while writing this. It happens to the band that was playing when it all started. It is their album that came out when it all fell apart. I did not plan to begin writing this piece when the album came on, but something in me says it is time.
Is it still painful? Yes. Does telling my story help my healing and point to Jesus? Also yes.
Sometimes, pain is necessary.
Another year of lessons, learning, pain, happiness, and growth has passed. I can't say I have progressed a crazy amount, but I’m far from the person I was a year ago. Since the one I loved more than anyone left my life, there has been a revolving door of guys that have walked in and right back out. All but one, leaving a horrible and ugly mess behind them. The boy from ‘Bama' remains a loyal friend, and I’m thankful for that. But there is the VSCO boy and his DM from hell, the British invader, and the lying heart thief all this past year. The Butterfly Graveyard Boy was an atomic bomb, but these guys were rapid-fire, artillery-style shots straight to my heart. And I ran to each of them simply because they were not the Butterfly Graveyard boy. I tried to use them to fill a void and heal a pain I believed God was purposefully neglecting.
This past year, I had to come to terms with my inner desire to please people and find security in making sure everyone likes me. I lost more light in me with every boy who told me I was not worth anything. But I do not owe these boys anything; I owe myself everything. I owe 23-year-old Sarah a chance to share her story, express how painful it was, and no longer sugarcoat things to protect people who never cared or ever will. 23, 24, and 25-year-old Sarah deserves to have a voice and no longer be silent. I’m 26 years old now, and I’m taking my voice back. The past three years have been hell, but I kept it to myself. Not anymore.
I wrestled with God in ways that hurt the most. All-consuming disappointment is a hard pill to swallow. There is something about praying wholeheartedly for a miracle and believing that the Lord will come through, just to be disappointed. I wondered why I was ignored and why praying was not enough. I remember getting angry when pastors would say, “You have not because you ask not.” I yelled and screamed at God for feeling betrayed, let down, and abandoned. How do you work through believing God raises people from pits when it feels like He led you into one and left you there? I hated God.
My book was partly a prayer for reconciliation, which never happened. I resented God and the one that I loved more than anyone. I almost canceled my publishing deal because the pain was more than I could bear. I apologized over and over, privately and publicly, for things I had no reason to apologize for. He never did. Looking back, I excused too much of his behavior and put too much blame on myself. I tried to protect his name and reputation, but changing the narrative belittled my experience. The one I loved more than anyone hurt me. He knew how to hurt me the most and did it intentionally and without a bit of remorse.
What was worse, I was also protecting my reputation. I wrote flowery words that painted a beautiful relationship with Jesus, but that was only the case some days. I wanted people to see me as a sweet, good Christian girl. Post-break-up, I became unrecognizable on the inside to myself. I never wanted anyone else to see that. I wanted to keep being perfect in the eyes of those who idolized me and put me on a larger-than-life pedestal. I love being loved, admired, and respected. I feed off of it. In my book, I wrote about my panic attacks, anorexia, and anxiety, but that was the tip of the iceberg. Those are the things I let people see, but I still controlled the narrative. I was a magician; I showed people only what I wanted them to see. There was so much more going on behind the scenes. I had a good show on stage to distract from the walls around me burning to the ground.
The past three years have been the worst three years of my life, but I see God differently- in a sense, I see Him as unfair, but in a good way. It was unfair that I got hurt simply because I only looked at the best in people. However, it taught me to listen to the whisper of His Spirit inside my heart when I need to walk away from a person, even when I do not want to. God does not operate in worldly fairness because He loves us too much.
My relationship with God is odd. It feels uncomfortable and awkward because I’m learning to trust Him again. My wounds had gotten so deep and so infected that it was taking time for all the healing my heart needed. Giving trust back to someone you feel does not deserve it is difficult, but He is God. He is where my trust is supposed to be grounded.
I’m going to be honest, I’m very depressed and have been since I was a kid. I have been high-functioning depressed and anxious for as long as I can remember. Recently, I broke. The lying, heart thief was the final straw.
I’m haunted by the ghosts of my past. I see them everywhere I look. I see the ghost of each boy late at night when my brain shows me mental memory movies of my greatest mistakes, pains, and fears. I see them when the hurt hijacks my thoughts and sends me spiraling out of control. I see the ghost of the person I loved more than anyone when I drive down certain roads or hear familiar songs. But the worst ghost I see is in the mirror. I see the girl I used to be, her big blue eyes flooded with tears streaming down her face. From time to time, she pops back up and I’m overwhelmed by the phantom pain that still resides in my heart. Something tells me that this will never go away. I’m no longer afraid of the ghosts, for they have become part of my life. What I do fear, are the ghosts that have yet to make their home in the Butterfly Graveyard and begin to haunt me.
But slowly, I’m getting stronger and have plans to start seeing a counselor soon. The Lord gives me enough every day to keep going and tells me to keep fighting. He kindly shows me how to be secure and stable when a boy tells me I’m not worth it. He patiently teaches me how to find safety in the Spirit He has gifted me with and find comfort in His presence alone. My heart has been on an out-of-control rollercoaster, giving my soul whiplash. I give my heart too quickly to any boy who makes a false promise or tells me an inciting lie. I use these boys to hide from the ghosts of the graveyard, and they use me for their desires. In doing this, they became ghosts themselves.
This year has been a year of facing the dark parts of my heart- the things I have kept hidden from everyone, including myself. A candle illuminates the cobwebs, the dried-up bones, and the broken and decayed tombstones that occupy my mind and soul. The Lord is stirring and strolling through the graveyard, letting His robe float amongst the dead. I wonder what this next year will bring.
November 4, 2019, began my journey of pruning, stretching, discomfort, and painful growth. November 4, 2020, was a season of wrestling with God, fighting for forgiveness, and developing a deeper understanding of faith. November 4, 2021, was about testing the waters of faith and stepping out of my comfort zone. November 4, 2022, is when the silent and cold graveyard of my life received a touch from the perfect love of the Father.
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