“I’m damn sure you’ll conquer the world”
“I’m damn sure you’ll conquer the world. Conquer a piece of it for me.”
A lot has happened this year. A lot of growth. A lot of pain. A lot that I didn’t ask for and a lot that I needed.
Perspective is everything. There have been so many points where it has felt like my world was crumbling around me, and I hid it all away. I kept it a secret. Isn’t there a quote about how shame grows in the dark? I was ashamed of my struggles, so I hid. From family, from friends; I crafted lies and pretty tales to hide the truth, well, here it is in all its glory.
I spent my summer getting treatment for an eating disorder. I graduated college, went home, and fell apart. And as I sat in my misery, I decided it was time to get help. Truth be told, I had been thinking about it for a long time, but I always made excuses. “I have to finish the semester first.” “No, this isn’t the right time.” I pushed it away until I hit my breaking point and had no choice. So, I spent the month of July doing an “internship” (that was my pretty lie), going in seven hours a day, seven days a week, and receiving intensive treatment. And it was so painful. I won’t sugarcoat that. Treatment is hard. You face ugly truths in front of strangers you are afraid to even face in the dark. You feel naked. But I went, and I journaled, cried, and healed wounds that I didn’t know I had. Four weeks later, and many miles put on my car, I wasn’t better, but I was on the road there. I had paved the road enough to be driven on. Maybe not for a smooth or pleasant drive, but paved nonetheless. I say all of this because shame is a poison that cannot be easily reversed, and when left untreated, it eats you alive.
What is most interesting about my hiding is that it has come with a sense of isolation. A feeling that no one sees you. But trust me when I say the people that love you see you. They see your flaws and love you for them. They see your truths, and that makes them love you more. The people around me have been able to see the things that I have never seen about myself, things that I couldn’t see through my shame and fear of being seen. They see my potential, the love I have to give, my kindness, my humor, and my intelligence. My grandma told me this weekend that she’s damn sure I’ll conquer the world. Those words hit me like a nice, weighty brick.
We are all full of potential that we may not even see. A potential that sometimes we need to be reminded of. She gave me the perspective I needed. Her few words gave me what I’d needed for so long: a reassurance that I was capable. That my pain won’t be permanent, my potential is untapped, and I have so much growing to look forward to. Her words told me everything I needed and more.
I don’t write with the expectation that my words will have some great impact, but I hope whoever reads this knows you are not alone. Don’t be afraid to live in the light.
