The holidays are meant to be joyful! Thanksgiving is a time to reflect on blessings throughout the year, and a time to express gratitude to loved ones and to our loving God who blesses us with more than we deserve or comprehend. So if that's true, then why does it simultaneously seem like the holidays are a time of mourning and grief for so many individuals who have suffered a loss of some sort? Why does a heavy heart often creep into our celebrations and merriness?
Suffering is a universal concept. We've all experienced loss in it's many relentless forms:
The loss of a job or an opportunity.
The loss of a loved one through death.
The loss of a loved one through betrayal, or simply the choice they made to leave.
The loss of health and therefore, quality of life.
The loss of hope that there is happiness and joy in the future.
At times the amount of loss in life seems unfair and insufferable.
The holidays are the time when it seem like our losses should return and magically reappear so the holes in our hearts can be filled for that short period of time when we're "supposed to be joyful." I often find myself wishing for the holes in my heart to be filled once more just for the holiday season... but life doesn't work like that. Instead we must find a way to fill those holes with new reasons to rejoice. This year I've found that obtaining a thankful heart might just be a tool in our toolbox to finding joy despite our grieving hearts or pained bodies.
When I was at my darkest place in my illness, I didn't believe that gratitude could change anything, and I often went about my day filled with bitterness and resent for people who were blessed to live their lives pain-free. Being thankful for what I have would do absolutely nothing in relieving my physical pain, so why should I try so hard when I felt I had nothing to be thankful for? Why should I try so hard now when my past pains often burden my heart in a way that seems unbearable in the moment? Gratitude will not take the PTSD from my nerves and mind. Gratitude won't make my heart any less heavy. Gratitude won't take my past or future flares from occurring. So does it matter at all?
The answer is yes! Practicing and expressing an attitude of gratitude and thanksgiving changes you. Allowing thankfulness to envelop your heart and senses can be the difference between having a happy holiday and having a hollow holiday. Will it relieve all of the pain from the injustices of life? Of course not, but it will take the edge off in a way that gives you the power to endure the pain, and endure it well. A thankful heart often reminds us that there's always a reason to keep going, even if your circumstances are less than desirable.
With that said, there will always be times when gratitude will seem unreachable.
I didn't feel thankful during my panic attack today.
I didn't feel thankful during my endometriosis two weeks ago.
I didn't feel thankful when my heart pinched with pain when I was reminded of the loss of someone I love on Thanksgiving Day.
So what? Do we throw the towel in and quit? NO! We recognize that we're not always going to be happy, and allow ourselves to feel our pain. We then get up and trek onward with hope in our hearts for a better future and faith that God will give us the strength to endure. And when we feel like we can't even do that, we plead with our loving God and lean on His strength and gratitude until we can find it in ourselves. God is waiting to help us hold our burdens, we simply have to ask to put it in His hands for a time.
I'm not going to pretend to be the expert on gratitude. I'm not. But I invite you to take time to write five things you're thankful for everyday. IT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE. I never knew I had so many things to smile about until I took a little time everyday to be thankful. Even if you can only find gratitude for the chair that you are sitting in, it is more than some people have. So take time to feel and express gratitude. It may not take your pain, but it will transform your pain into something beautiful.
This year I'm thankful that the years past are over and that I don't have to live in that consistent darkness anymore. I'm thankful for the health I do have. I'm thankful for the people I've lost so that God can heal and open my heart to new people that I can love. I'm thankful for life, breath, and hope that my Savior, Jesus Christ, instills in my heart if I allow Him too. There's always something to be thankful for... we simply have to take time to see it.
I found myself reminiscing today. I found myself look back, and then regretting it. I frequently resist moments of nostalgia that creep into my mind merely because the happy memory is usually accompanied by a deep ache that penetrates the strongest of walls around my heart. Happy memories are often escorted by laughter that's been silenced, love that somehow managed to slip through my fingers, and time that's been burned over with more time. It often feels like the road behind me is coated with blood and ash which drives me to never look back and fear the moment I choose to take a step forward.
I suppose this is grief at it's finest. I often grieve the life I had before, or the life that never existed because it was replaced with pain and tears that were accompanied with my diagnosis. I often grieve when I watch young people that are out living their lives without a thought as to how they feel physically, or what they eat, or what they're breathing in. I suppose that ignorance is bliss... but I never got to experience that bliss in my first years of young adulthood, and I the grieve the idea that maybe I've missed something. I grieve the idea that my moments of bliss were replaced with heartache and pain... and that just can't be fair. Becoming so well acquainted with grief at such a young age just can't be fair.
I remember when I was six year old and my pet rabbit died. I cried for one night.
I recall when I was fifteen and my best friend betrayed me. I cried for a week.
I was sixteen when my "first love" broke up with me and I cried for a few weeks.
I was seventeen when I lost the presence of my mother in my life to a disease the robbed her of her quality of life. I cried every time I came home to her screams of pure agony.
I was eighteen when I lost my will to live after I was diagnosed with the same disease I watched my mother suffer from for so long. I cried for years as I fought long and hard for my life. I still cry if I think about those moments for too long.
Perhaps I'm just an "emotional person." Perhaps I don't have what it takes to cope with real life. Perhaps some of those things were silly at the time and weren't worth my tears... but despite everything, I've found that it's possible that our hearts are meant to bleed this hard. Maybe we were meant to be broken so we can be healed and revived twice as strong. Maybe life is fair simply because it's so unfair for everyone. How does one experience pure joy if they are never exposed raw pain?
I've bled and cried, I've kicked and screamed, I've complained and raged, I've faithfully and willfully continued to put one foot in front of the other despite the hardship. And what's come from it all is a sense of comfort despite the strong discomfort that plagues me regularly. I suppose the kind of bliss that comes from ignorance isn't really bliss at all because someday you'll find yourself in the sick bed... and you'll wonder what went wrong... just like I did.
I've come to love my sensitive nature. I've come to appreciate my keen sense of air pollution and unreal food. I've come to smile at the funny looks I get from people who can't comprehend why I eat organic. I often ask myself who in their right mind would want bliss if it is required to be accompanied with ignorance? I've come to realize that joy and bliss are two different things, and wisdom doesn't come with age... it comes with suffering...
I've come to gain a deep love for people who suffer on deep and penetrating levels. I've gained a deep respect for people who suffer in ways that change them forever. Suffering that erases the ignorance and replaces it with a sense of comfort and peace even in the storm of discomfort and pain.
These kinds of people are warriors. These kinds of people are the people that have been sculpted in the midst of adversity. These people have let go and let God transform them into beings of light and vitality. These are the people that have discovered great depth in life. These are the people that have experienced the great ache that leads to resilience and fortitude that I myself have not yet mastered.
Perhaps hearts were meant to bleed this much. Perhaps bodies where meant to break down. Perhaps tears were meant to be shed. Not because we live in a cruel universe... but because God has a Divine Design that can transform blood into healing, breaking in wholeness, and tears of grief into tears of rejoicing. May we all learn that lesson in hopes that we can grow in strength and everlasting joy.
Perhaps we all need to reminisce sometimes... Because the past is at times our greatest teacher and mentor. And in the meantime, I've come to love the sound of my feet walking in the direction that God intends for them to be... because the blood and ash behind me doesn't matter at the sight of beauty and light ahead of me.
I frequently travel through my life with a sense of a double identity as our society loudly screams frivolous ideas of success and popularity that seem to be difficult to ignore. And as I attempt to "fit in" with my peers, I always find myself feeling slightly fake and two-faced.
As a woman living in a world brimming with photo-shop, snap-chat filters, and unrealistic glimpses into other people's lives via social media, it's easy to blindly chase after the false belief that in order for me to be a thriving influence in society I must be living up to society's standard: I must be going to school full time, holding a job, eating the best tasting food, traveling to the most exotic places, fulfilling all my callings in the church, and I must be stunningly beautiful every day. I must never have problems... and if I do I must keep my mouth shut in order to avoid causing anyone discomfort. If I experience emotional pain, I must quickly throw it under the rug and pretend it doesn't exist. I must smile... but not too wide and not too frequently. I must be happy... but not too emotional or enthusiastic. I must be tired... but simultaneously drill myself to accomplish all the to-do lists, schedules, and appointments. And while I'm juggling all that... I must also be having the most fun and posting it all to Instagram and Facebook so that everyone else can feel bad about how they're not having enough fun. Thank you social media for this unrealistic and impossible view of reality.
I've tried to be that girl. That girl that has perfection in the bag. That girl that appears to have vitality and richness overflowing in her life. That girl that doesn't talk about her inward struggles in fear that she'll make other people uncomfortable or that she'll give the wrong image or idea. But that girl is fake. That girl isn't real. That girl is living a double life and because I've always tried to be that girl, it makes it easy for my peers, associates, and family to assume that I'm not really sick.
"You don't look sick."
"She must be faking it."
"You're a beautiful girl that probably just feels like you're not getting enough attention."
"You must thrive off of attention."
Some of the comments that all chronic illness warriors hear on a regular basis cut us deep because we're simply trying to survive in our own skin to the best of our ability. What's worse is the words that go unsaid. What's worse is the gaping mouths and blank stares we receive that translates to the disbelief that any person actually suffers on that kind of level. What's worse is the attempt of someone apologizing and stating how hard that must be because they don't know what else to say. The silence is just as painful as harsh words simply because it traps us in the corner of disbelief where we constantly feel the need to prove that we're sick.
So I'll be the first to admit it... You're right... I'm faking it.
I'm faking the smile on my face when I'm trying so desperately to hold back tears. I'm faking that I'm feeling okay when I'm usually riddled with muscle pain, nerve pain, or severe anxiety. I'm faking that I'm living life pain-free when there are so many times that I feel like I'm suffocating under my own skin. I'm faking my sanity when I feel like there are bugs crawling under my skin. I'm faking that I'm flying when at times I feel so utterly close to drowning beneath the pressure of it all. I'm faking that my heart is whole and complete, when really it feels exhausted, broken, and bleeding.
When these things that I'm faking are expressed out loud, I simply feel inadequate. I feel like I lack the ability to ever be "good enough." I feel like it's my fault and if I just tried a little harder.... maybe my pain would subside. I feel ashamed of my own existence, and I often wonder why at times it feels like the world keeps turning while my time stops and I'm trapped in one place until my inward storm chooses to cease for a while. And as these feelings envelop me, the vicious cycle of feeling forced to "fake it" starts all over again.
We live in a society that believes that pain can be relieved with substances. We cope with alcohol, drugs, pills, porn, food, or anything we can do to numb our afflictions. But at some point, we have to realize that the SUBSTANCES DO NOT HEAL US. The substances numb us to the harsh reality. Instead of relying on substances, we can rely on God and on each other so we don't have to feel the desperate need to "fake it till' you make it."
LOVE is the key to healing. "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son." (John 3:16) God loves us, so He gave us His son so that we don't have to suffer alone. Christ knows of our pains and our sorrows, and He loves us all the same. If we strive to be more like Him, we can act as a rock and relief for others who are suffering. We don't have to have all of the answers for the chronically ill. We don't have to take their physical pain away. But what we can do is seek to understand the depths that others and in, and then... we simply love them through it.
Here's the joyful message of it all... Because I have a Savior who loves and sustains me... I can find pure joy through pain and illness, and I'm not faking it. Because I know that people are more important than substances, I can understand that after I walk through my own furnace of affliction I develop the ability to love others through their afflictions. I also understand that as I suffer I gain a greater capacity to later help others which in turn helps me. What I stop trying so hard to fake it, I can be true to myself in enduring pain and happiness.
So the next time that you meet somebody, or the next time that you're talking to somebody... "treat them as if they are in serious trouble. And you will be right more than half of the time." (Henry B. Eyring) It would all do us well to bring our shallow existences to a halt. The next time that somebody says they are doing well and you sense that they are not, do not believe the words they speak. Believe the silent plea for help in their eyes. Believe their subtle look of discouragement and pure exhaustion. Believe that little voice in your head telling you that maybe this person needs help. Believe the inherent ability you have to love somebody through their pain.
We all have that power. May we seek with pure diligence to know how to help ignite that power in ourselves and in others.
For this post Chronically Beautiful teamed up with The Hello Lovely Project. The Hello Lovely Project exists to promote self worth in young girls and women illustrated through pictures and stories. In a day and age when women's contribution to the world is so often objectified and diminished, it's more important now more than ever that every woman recognizes her Divine worth. The heart of this project rests in the fact that women are so much more than what you see on the outside. Women are human beings that have hearts that pump blood and determination through our veins, lungs that breathe air and influence throughout our society, and minds that hold treasures of knowledge and wisdom that ought to be recognized. Every woman has Divine gifts and Divine worth that makes them absolutely amazing, and for some it's incredibly difficult to see the beauty and worth that lies within. For the Hello Lovely Project, we strive to let that truth penetrate the hearts and minds of women all over the world.
Let's face it... the years that we all walk as a teenager are always the most difficult, and my road to discovering my individual worth began here. Bottom line: I hated the mirror and I never felt like I was ever enough. I spent countless amounts of time in Sunday school lessons and seminars about beauty and worth and yet I couldn't quite seem to visualize in my head how it all applied to me. I was told time after time by my peers how I wasn't smart enough or how I lacked in one thing or another. Due to physical disability, I wasn't as quick to think on my feet as some of my friends were, which lead me to believe that I was just plain stupid. Stupidity was also implied multiple times through that sarcastic comment that rolled off the lips of my peers on multiple occasions: "It's a good thing you're pretty because you don't have much else going for you." Those words cut deep as I let them penetrate my heart and allowed them to affect how I viewed myself and my worth. For these reasons, I rotted in the belief that if I could look "perfect" then maybe I might have something to offer in the world.
At this time in my life, I spent a lot of time watching beauty "how-to's" on Youtube, and wondering why my hair never seemed as shiny, or my teeth as straight, or my lips as full, or my skin as clear as all the girls in the videos. How did they master this idea of "perfection" and yet no matter how hard I tried, I would never be enough. No amount of makeup or hairspray could help me reach the level of physical "perfection" that I could see in others. And yet I didn't pause a minute to strive for anything less than excellence in my appearance.
As you can imagine, living in a way that makes everyone else happy and comfortable with you can be very exhausting, and I often wondered what it would be like if I ever resolved to show up to school as someone who was comfortable in my own skin (without all of the extra makeup and hair care). The truth was that I couldn't ever get myself to take that step due to fear of what others would think. I was often told by women that "beauty is pain" anyway, so I figured that it was normal to never find true comfort in my appearance. The truth was that I never was comfortable in my own skin. I didn't like my own face. And I didn't want to think about what I actually looked like because my looks were seemingly "all I had to offer."
Let's fast forward to post-graduation and my first taste of young adulthood. How does one's self-worth play a part as a young woman attending college who had just been diagnosed with a debilitating disease? I was diagnosed with Lyme disease soon after I began college, and naturally, the obsession I had with looking perfect came to an end. I lost 15 pounds my first semester of college (keep in mind that I already only weighed 125 lbs and I'm 5'9" in height), and could often feel and see my spine, wrist and ankle bones protruding from under my skin. When I came home from college I found unnatural amounts of hair coming out in my brush and I remember standing in front of the mirror in tears as I'd pull the hair out of my brush to throw it away. I remember my face, neck, arms, and back very frequently being broken out in lesions and rashes that would itch and hurt to the point where I had a constant relentless urge to pick at my skin whenever I felt nervous or panicky.
Naturally, the makeup, hairspray, and the need for "perfect" appearance quickly vanished. Suddenly my drive to stay alive became more important than my desire to look like society's ideal woman. Naturally, I felt horrible about myself day in and day out. I was useless. I had to stay in a bed and participate in laborious treatments that frequently made me feel worse. What could someone with Lyme disease ever have to offer in a world that pushes work, education, money, traveling, exercise, and looking amazing while doing it?
Eventually, as I learned to find comfort in my own face and my own skin, I learned the answer to that question. I had to come to a place of acceptance in my life. Acceptance of who I am no matter where I happen to be or what I happen to look like in my life. A place where I learned that the worth of a woman has nothing to do with how she looks. The worth of a woman doesn't equate to how smart or stupid society tells her that she is. The worth of a woman isn't about what men or other women think of her. The worth of a woman isn't drawn based off of her abilities or her disabilities. The worth of a woman isn't determined by how perfect she can get herself and her life to look.
I didn't realize when I was younger that my worth comes from my heart, not from my body. To say that one's worth comes from their physical appearance doesn't make sense simply because the heat of life being turned up doesn't equate to the worth of a soul being turned down. If my body determines my worth, then when my body breaks down from physical illness I don't have any worth! I know now that this perception of 'worth" just isn't true. I suppose it's true that "beauty is pain" not because of eyebrow plucking and long hours of makeup application, but because my illness does not make me "less beautiful." If anything it makes me more beautiful because of the extra strength and resilience that is accompanied with all the painful aspects of Lyme. I choose to not let Lyme define me, and even though it's incredilbly difficult... it doesn't determine who I am or my worth. Every single one of us is blessed with innate worth and ability when we are born, and that worth doesn't merely vanish when life gets hard, or when we feel inadequate in various aspects of our life.
In God's eyes, every single one of us has an undeniable amount of worth. When I can see that my worth comes from God, then I can also see that my worth is enduring and eternal. The glorious message from that is that every single one of us has the power to take our worth in our own hands and create something beautiful with it. I never was stupid. I never was ugly. I never was useless. I simply perceived myself to be that way which held me back and made it so I was living way beneath my privileges.
I've always been beautiful, smart, and capable. I've always had something to offer to the world. It is so with every woman if they so choose to discover and realize their internal worth. God loves His children. God loves His daughters. That doesn't change because of things that others say or expectations of society. My hope is that all women can come to an understanding of who they are and the innate beauty that is instilled in there own hearts and souls wherever they may be in their lives.
*This post was inspired by #thehellolovelyproject. You can learn more about the incredible woman who started this project by visiting her "About Me" page here.
Do you want to get involved with this project? Here's what you can do!
Many of us have heard the story from Greek mythology of the phoenix. As the story goes, at the end of it's life, this bird lays in it's nest which then brutally burns to a pile of ash. And what does the phoenix do after it's been burned alive? It rises from the ashes, triumphant and strong, reborn and renewed.
I've experienced something similar from the whole world this past week. I've read all of your comments, messages, and emails. I've been burned and scourged, beaten and stoned, bruised and rubbed raw by the words of critics all over the world. Whoever first said that everybody's a critic was right, and when it seems like the whole world speaks against you with blow torch-like power, what does one do?
Well... in this case one arises from the ashes just like the phoenix. At this point, if I keep silent and wallow in my ashes, then that says to all of these incredible people I've connected with that they should give up too. So... I'm not giving up because my story is simply a representation of the thousands of people who have similar experiences.
"Woman reveals she CANCELLED her dream wedding just a week before the big day... after discovering her fiancé watches porn."
"Fiancé dumped over porn habit..."
"Woman cancels dream wedding to her "best friend" after discovering he watches lots of porn."
"Internet slams woman who dumped her fiancé because he liked porn."
"Bride dumps porn-addicted fiancé a week before the wedding."
It's officially everywhere and everyone seems to each have their own take on it. Overall, it seems as though I've hit a chord in the hearts of the men and women who have experienced great pain because of pornography. And I've struck a nerve in the men and women who indulge in and enjoy pornography. The internet is seemingly enraged and the fires in the hearts of the people are blazing as every person and their dog debates whether I did the right thing or not and other various opinions about me.
Again, it seems like a lot of people are missing the point. This isn't about me. This isn't about my ex-fiancé. This isn't about me trying to make everyone feel bad. This is not about me wanting to become famous (I do not want to be famous.) This is simply a representation of all the suffering going on in the world and a reason to stand strong and say that we don't have to live in a way that brings pain to others or ourselves. Among all of the mud slinging going on, I want to address the side of it that I've seen. I want to address the heartbreaking reality that has made itself very clear to me in the past couple of days.
Throughout the past week I have received a MASSIVE AMOUNT of emails and Facebook messages from women ALL OVER THE WORLD. These women have reached out to me and shared with me their stories of heartbreaking suffering FOR YEARS because of ongoing pornography in their relationship from their boyfriend, fiancé, husband, or any other man in their lives that they love and put their trust in. Clearly, I am not the first woman to leave or call a wedding off due to pornography. I want to reiterate now why I wrote this series of articles in the first place: I wrote them for THESE WOMEN!
"While we may not be cut from the same cloth, we share the same experience and pain."
"I have lived years of hell because of my husband's porn addiction."
"This happened that was similar to me and I never knew."
"I abhor porn and was deceived for years."
"Your story is my story."
The comments above are echoes of hundreds and thousands of women with all kinds of different religions and backgrounds who have expressed to me that they FINALLY have found some validity and hope. They finally feel like somebody somewhere understands the cries of their hearts. Are we (as a society) really going to mark every single one of these women as though they are "insane" and "delusional" just because pornography is such a widely acceptable thing? Maybe everyone else will... but I want to take a minute to address THESE WOMEN.
To the women who have reached out to me in the past week:
I want to thank every single one of you for your comments, your support, and your vulnerability as you've worked up the courage to share your personal heartbreaks with me. I want you all to know that I have read every single one of your messages, and I wish that I had the time to reply to each and every one of you individually. Given such large numbers of messages I've received, I can't respond to every single one. But I want you all to know that you are clearly NOT ALONE in your feelings and your experiences. I wish that I could wrap my arms around every single one of you and weep with you and talk with you. Know that my heart is now connected with yours. What we've done here is we've created an ARMY of women whose hearts are connected and who stand as witnesses that pornography is a threat to true love and to the family unit. We've created a voice that has power and hope behind it. We may not be able to solve the worldwide plague of pornography, but we can help fight this drug one person at a time.
I've also had the unique opportunity to read the messages of a few men who have fought the fight of porn addiction in their own lives, and have overcome it and no longer choose to indulge in such things. THANK YOU for sharing your story! Thank you for proving that not "all men do it." Thank you for expressing the truth that is repentance and change. Thank you for being the amazing men that you are. It's clear to me that these men still exist, and it's possible to overcome. These men may seem few and far between, but I know that there are more out there, and in light of that I want to send a worldwide message to the men:
To the men who do not indulge in pornography... to the men who once indulged in those things and no longer choose to because they have discovered deeper happiness and a deep cleansing made possible through our Savior, Jesus Christ: I KNOW THAT YOU ARE OUT THERE! PLEASE HAVE THE MORAL COURAGE TO SPEAK UP AND SPEAK OUT. PLEASE REACH OUT. PLEASE HELP US WOMEN TO KNOW THAT YOU STILL EXIST. This is the conversation that needs to be happening in order to make a difference. As Edmund Burke once stated: "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." Please don't do nothing.
As a woman, it's so much easier to keep quiet. It would be so much easier for me to "disappear, shut up, and stop writing." It would absolutely be easier for me to do nothing. But sometimes doing the easy thing that everybody is telling you to go do is not always the right thing. And when someone decides to do the right thing and nobody stands by her... it can be very difficult to endure. So feel free to reach out through comments and messages. If the only way that a woman or a person can earn respect is by keeping her mouth shut then I'm not sure why we're all put on this earth together. This conversation is so important, and we can all find the moral courage to refrain from doing nothing.
It's time for society to WAKE UP! Your women are grieving! Your children are grieving! And as far as I'm concerned, your men are grieving as well!
I want to take a minute to clarify something: My religion has never taught me that "sex is bad." As a large amount of people seem to think that's what I believe, let me explain what I actually believe: I believe that sexual relationships are so GOOD that they are sacred in which they should be held within the boundaries that God sets. This means within the bounds of a man and a women lawfully wed as husband and wife. This excludes anything outside of those bounds including pornography. This is what I BELIEVE. You do NOT have to agree with me. But I just want to express that living this way has brought ME great joy and happiness. The kind of joy and happiness that I wish all of you could experience.
The widespread use of pornography is a heartbreaking reality. But all of us can play a part in crushing that reality and striving to create happier families and healthier homes. The idea that everyone watches it and it's normal and healthy is just not true. We are CHILDREN OF GOD. We are not just sexual animals that need lust and sex the same way we need food and water. In a world filled with instant gratification, we've forgotten what really matters. LOVE. FAMILY. HOPE. LIFE. If love is truly what matters, then why are we all fighting for porn? Instead of fighting against each other, we can ban together and fight against the thing that is destroying those higher powers and higher levels of happiness.
I wish the healthiest and happiest lives for all of you, and I hope that we can all move forward with hope for healing one person at a time. We can all arise from the ashes, just like the phoenix.
In light of the massive upheaval that has arisen since my last series on betrayal trauma, I feel the need to make a general overall statement, mainly because it would take years to respond to the thousands of comments, and some of them I don't feel are worth responding to anyway.
I've officially been bashed by the internet for my religion, my personality, my values, my mind, my writing, my experiences, my dreams, and anything else that people could manage to find wrong with me and those articles. Congratulations, you've officially covered all of your bases. I suppose most of you who made the rude comments, (if not all of you) feel like they're deserved, and you completely have a right to your own opinion. But if you feel the need to write any more nasty comments on my blog, they are now immediately deleted on Chronically Beautiful simply because as the author of my own website, I have the freedom to choose what is shared and what is not, and I don't write things for the purpose of spreading hate.
The things that people are willing to say to a complete stranger are quite shocking, and make an overall general negative statement about our society. I find it ironic that for a society that is big on #noshame, everyone seems perfectly okay with shaming and harassing innocent people on the internet. It's okay to have differing opinions than mine. In fact, it's more than okay. But there's certain class, civility, and eloquence that anyone can demonstrate when stating their different opinions, which some people showed in their comments. You can absolutely state how you think or feel without brutality. Nobody deserves to be treated in such a way, including myself.
I want to take a minute to address the religious aspect of the argument. Most of you have figured out by now that I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I love my religion, and it brings me great joy and happiness. No, the "Mormons" are not a cult, and just because someone is religious and believes in God does not mean we automatically belong to a cult. It does mean that I believe in a most high God who loves ALL of his children, including my ex-fiance, and every single one of you. It means that I value chastity, which means abstinence from sexual relationships before marriage and complete fidelity after marriage. You do not need to agree with my values to respect my values. And just because I have a high-value system does not mean that I'm "self-righteous" or that I believe that I'm perfect. Of course, I have my flaws... but there is a major difference between making mistakes, and sexual promiscuity.
One thing I want to point out is that true love does not and cannot exist unless it is governed by God's law. This includes chastity, fidelity, loyalty, and honesty. Without those things, TRUE love does not exist. And those who proclaim that it does are usually not very happy themselves. Of course, marriage is hard and there's no perfect marriage. But overall, marriage was created to bring more joy and happiness than pain and heartache. But to those who think I "jumped ship," you're right... I did. Because when someone in an engagement decides to violate God's laws, honesty doesn't exist. And neither does love. At that point, because we were not yet married, it was not my job to "fix him." (When has a woman ever tried to "fix" a man and it's actually worked anyway!?) It's his job to fix himself. That doesn't mean I can't offer love and forgiveness. Which I did at the time and still do... but forgiveness does not equate to sticking around where I can be hurt multiple times over. You don't reach repentance and change by being coddled every step of the way. Leaving was an act of love because I care more about what happens to him in the next life than I do about having a "picture perfect wedding" in the here and now. No woman should ever be guilted into marrying anybody.
I also want to state that I think a large majority of people are missing the point of why I wrote these articles. I was completely aware when I posted these that I would get some backlash. But those people that are whipping me with their tongues are not the audience that I wrote this series of articles for. So honestly, if it makes you that angry, there is literally no reason why you have to read what I write. I didn't write them to shame men, women, or porn addicts. I didn't write them to shame my ex-fiance. I didn't write them to get attention (why on earth would anyone actually want this much attention?).
The reason I wrote these articles is because there are hundreds and thousands of women out there (and I'm sure some men too) who have been through similar things. Some of these people that I have met personally have continuously told me that they have experienced so much pain from their loved one's pornography addiction, but they can't talk about it precisely because of the social backlash that I have received from this topic. I write for these women. I write for these women that finally have a voice now (as you can see from the comments on LOVE WHAT MATTERS). I write for these women so they can see that despite the men or other people in their lives who betray their trust, they still have worth and there is hope that their hearts will be healed.
I also believe it's quite appalling that anybody invalidates anyone else's pain. Everybody feels and expresses things on different levels, and just because we live in a society that is insanely numb, does not mean that everyone has to be numb and emotionless. Nobody would ever laugh at someone who was in a car accident and lost an arm. So why is it okay that we mock other people's emotional pain? If the shoe was on the other foot and it was YOUR emotional pain caused by someone close to you betraying YOUR trust, it wouldn't be so funny now would it? I also want to point out that I suffer from a chronic illness called Chronic Lyme Disease. The nature of Lyme disease itself is that it can drill into your nervous system, and therefore it causes a heightening of the senses. This is usually accompanied by deep negative emotion, anxiety, or depression. So when a Lyme patient's life is thrown a hardball, it is extremely hard to process at first. So to those who think I'm "immature" and "overly dramatic"... That's not exactly a card you can play if you don't live in my own skin. I simply wrote what I was feeling at the time, and if you actually read the other two parts you would find that the conclusion was that I'm happy with the decision I made, and that I did overcome the pain I was feeling.
Okay, let's address the pornography issue for a minute here...
First of all... to those who think I just destroyed my ex-fiancé's life... Let me clarify: We already had over 300 invitations to our wedding sent out. We had to call every single one of those people and tell them what happened to inform them that the wedding was off. Pornography addiction does not just affect you. Pornography addiction affects the people around you, and it's only so long before the truth is going to come out. Because of the nature of my situation, it's not a secret among our friends and family. It never was. I didn't write the articles to bash my ex-fiance. And the things I did write simply stated what happened, and how I felt about it. That's it! I forgive my ex-fiancé, and I hope the best for him and his life.
I recognize that pornography addiction is a massive struggle for some people, and I want to point out here that my heart goes out to anyone who is caught in the grasp of it. I do NOT feel hatred towards the people who struggle from addiction. I feel sad because I know how much it destroys love, family, and happiness. But I don't feel hatred. If you read the whole post, you would have read that eventually I had to stop seeing myself as the victim in the situation because that's part of moving on and healing. Similarly, the people who are addicted to porn need to stop seeing themselves as the victim too. Because if you say that a porn addict is a victim, you're not giving them any hope to overcome the addiction. Clearly, there needs to be MORE HOPE in this world.
Pornography addiction is a very difficult plague. I will never claim that it's not. And whether you believe that pornography addiction is an illness or not is irrelevant, because the problem is that so many people use the word "addiction" and "illness" as a way to justify their actions, in which case they will never overcome it. There are two roads you can take when you find yourself in this place. One road will always lead back to the addiction. And the other road leads to Christ who paid the price for ALL pain. One road leads to shame, isolation, and other sexual addictions, and the other road leads to repentance and change. Christ paid the price for those struggling with pornography. Does it take some stretching and some difficulty to overcome? Of course, it does! But it isn't impossible. It's possible with Christ's enabling power. You don't have to live life with a serious sexual addiction. There is life without porn addiction, and believe it or not, there can be life AFTER porn addiction depending on how YOU CHOOSE to get help and how YOU CHOOSE to help yourself.
I also want to take a minute to address the people who claim "it's just porn." There are HUNDREDS of statistics on how harmful pornography is on the brain, relationships, and the world. If you don't believe me, you can visit fightthenewdrug.org where it outlines and explains what pornography does, and why it's so harmful. There is nothing natural or healthy about indulging in pornography. To say that "all men look at porn" is to say that all men care more about self-gratification and sexual desire than they do about their wives, daughters, sons, and the other people they love in their life. I don't believe that all men are like that... In fact, I know some incredible men who are not like that, and porn is not a part of their lives, or they're trying incredibly hard to eliminate it from their lives. Kudos to those men. Kudos to them for valuing greater things in their lives. The reason why pornography is such a massive epidemic in society is because it's so socially acceptable. There is nothing wrong with hoping for a greater future for our world than one filled with porn, addiction, and adultery.
I want to conclude this post by thanking all the wonderful women and men who have positively reached out to me in the past few days, and I want to offer tremendous love to all the people who have given support and banned together on this issue. Keep on keeping on and stay strong! There is always hope and happiness ahead!
There is one truth that for the longest time I never believed for myself. But now I believe it, and I want everyone who suffers on levels such as this to know:
HEALING IS POSSIBLE. HEALING CAME FOR ME, AND IT WILL COME FOR YOU TO!
Healing is not something that occurs in one swift motion. Healing does not come in an instant, and healing isn't an easy process. Healing is a cleansing process. A cleansing process of one's mind, heart, and soul. Healing is a choice. We are NOT a result of what happens to us in our lives. We are a result of how we REACT to what happens to us. There are things that will come that are completely out of our control, but how we choose to react to those things will determine our destiny. If we choose wisely, we can experience healing along the road that at times will seem relentlessly long.
And here's the good news: WE ARE NOT ALONE ON OUR PATH TOWARDS HEALING! Isn't that a glorious message!? We have a loving and merciful God who is there for us every step of the way. We have a Savior who knows EXACTLY what we are going through because he suffered all of these pains we feel long before we felt them. And we have angels that we cannot see who are there to love and support us and they are fighting our battles with us. You see, we are never truly alone on our painful journeys. That was something I had to learn before I was able to get up, overcome the initial shock, and move forward in faith.
Healing doesn't come through choosing to be the victim in any certain circumstance, and for me I had to push past the agony that was taking place in my mind and heart, and make specific decisions and take action towards healing. Small choices I made back then made a massive impact on the state of my heart as time passed. These are action steps that every single one of us can make. And no, making these decisions doesn't make the heart-stopping pain hurt less, and it doesn't induce instant healing, but it teaches and heals one step, one second, one minute, and one day at a time.
These are the things I had to experience in order to reach healing:
1. I had to decide right away that I wasn't going to let this destroy me. Throughout the course of events I resolved to be strong even if I felt like the weakest person on the face of the earth. For so long I felt like a little girl that couldn't control her feelings or emotions. I felt insane and I figured that my sanity was out of my control at the time. To a point it was... there were things I couldn't control. I couldn't control the deep ache that settled in my chest for weeks. I couldn't control my inability to sleep, or my lack of appetite due to the nausea that seemed to follow me everywhere. I couldn't control the horrific nightmares I had when I did sleep, and I couldn't control feeling overwhelmingly heavy all the time, almost as if an elephant was constantly sitting on me.
So, I took hold of the things I could control. I controlled how often I fell on my knees and talked with my Heavenly Father. I controlled opening up God's word and reading to find peace and wisdom. I controlled the fact that I wouldn't allow myself to be left alone at any given time for the first little while. I controlled who I spoke to and who I did not. I controlled which texts and phone calls I answered and which ones I did not. I was constantly seeking for peace. Hidden in all of these little insignificant choices was my deep desire to not let this tragedy destroy me. I wanted so desperately to be strong, and I learned along the way that all of us are blessed with that strength inside of us. God is more powerful than pain, and He can bless us with extra strength if we so choose to develop it.
2. I decided to find myself by losing myself in the service of others. One wise teacher, mentor, and friend once told me that "you find yourself by losing yourself in the service of others." I figured in this case I didn't have anything else to lose so I might as well distract myself at least. I expressed at one point my deep and painful feelings to this friend who offered me the opportunity to come volunteer as his TA for a semester at a local high school. I'd be working with high school seniors, and for whatever reason I felt a desperate need to except his offer.
Without going into great detail about that glorious experience, I have to admit that it was a MASSIVE blessing at this time in my life to get to know those high school seniors. Being greeted with "Good morning Miss Dalton!" every morning brought such joy to my soul for a time, and my heart felt full with love for those bright and beautiful teenagers that I was working with. Serving others played a tremendous role in my healing process, and it can in yours too. It's all a part of opening up your heart again to be able to love. Love is the greatest healing power in the entire world, and when I let a small piece of my heart love again, it meant the beginning of that small piece being mended and restored little by little.
3. I had to purge my past and forgive. Forgiveness was one of my more difficult tasks on my path to healing. I wanted to believe that I had forgiven him from the beginning. And I had reached forgiveness to a point, but I hadn't let it all go. I spent so much time being angry at him for destroying me. I spent so much time agonizing and reliving those moments of horror. I spent so much time feeling terrified of the people I came in contact or with, or afraid that maybe I didn't have a future past this experience. Honestly, I had to experience those difficult feelings in order to truly forgive and surrender my past in a way that doesn't let it define my future. Along the way I learned some things about forgiveness.
First, forgiveness does not mean putting yourself in a place where your heart keeps breaking. It doesn't mean reinserting yourself into someones life who has hurt you tremendously. Sometimes we have to love and forgive people from a distance, and that's okay. Second, forgiveness is not the same as excusing. We do not have to excuse someone's wrongdoing in order to forgive them. In fact, the more we allow ourselves to experience and recognize the damage that has been done, the greater our capacity to forgive, change, and move on. And third, forgiveness creates a safe space to allow God to heal your heart. Restitution for me came from my Savior, and it came in the form of healing and restoration of my heart and mind. Once I achieved forgiveness with the help of the Savior, I was able to feel free again which opened my heart up to be healed and purge the negative emotions I had towards the one who had wronged me. We all have that power to forgive. And if we don't have that power in the beginning, pray for that power. God will bless you with the innate power to forgive and move on.
4. I had to give all of my pain to my Savior. I remember a very specific time in the course of events where I learned this crucial life lesson. I had just moved with my parents, I was in a new place, and I had met some new people that I was terrified to open up to or think about to much. I was sitting on the edge of my bed one night in horrendous emotional pain. I felt panicky and weak and my heart hurt tremendously. I felt confused and angry and I sobbed uncontrollably for the loss of my peace of mind. It had been months... I should be over it... I shouldn't be hurting so much. In that moment I wondered if I would ever feel peace again.
At the time a thought came to mind that I had read about how the Savior is just waiting to heal us of our wounds and misfortunes, but in order for us to allow Him to heal our hearts, we have to ask for healing. It occurred to me at that moment that I had not yet simply asked for Him to take my pain. It seemed impossible for one moment of inquiry to heal such a wounded and broken down heart. But I had to try, and I had to muster up enough faith for healing to occur. I retreated to my knees and pleaded with the Lord to heal me. To take my pain. And I remember clearly stating, "Please... I don't want this anymore!"
At the conclusion of my prayer I felt stillness, and I felt an obvious lift in my heart. I felt anger melt into the floor, and I felt peace fill my soul as the tears flooded down my face. I knew in that moment that my prayer had been heard, and that I was currently in the process of having it be answered. My merciful Heavenly Father was going to take all my broken pieces and build them into something beautiful. I just had to excersise patience, and after that moment, my grief and pain in the days to come was less intense, less excruciating, and more bearable. It was nothing short of a miracle and I know it's because when we lay our burdens at our Savior's feet, He heals us.
5. I had to recognize that I still had worth. I was broken, wounded, damaged... I've used those words to describe myself so many times. I knew that to most men I was "damaged goods," and in my mind I didn't disagree, and I didn't believe that I had anything to give or offer anymore. But in order to experience healing, I had to learn differently.
Nobody is ever just eternally broken or damaged unless they choose to be that way. I have so much worth, and so much to give in my interactions with others. I may be broken, and I may have some scars, but my brokenness has transformed me into something beautiful. It's ironic because in the midst of it all, in the past year my capacity to love others has grown. I know now that someday when I discover the man who I was meant to be with, my love for him won't be any less because of the love that I had for the man who hurt me.
You're not broken! You're not damaged! You're not worthless! And in the sight of God, you have infinite power and ability to love and be loved, and continue on your path towards success and happiness. That was something I wish I would have understood faster, because it's so crucial when we are healing to know who we are, and by knowing who we are, we can take back our power that God blesses us with to prosper and live life to the fullest.
6. I had to be thankful. Gratitude is essential for healing. Either I was cursed because I lost who I thought was the love of my life. Or I was blessed because I was saved from being put in a situation that would have destroyed me so much more if it would have gone on longer. I've come to know that I was gloriously blessed, and I thank my Heavenly Father every day for saving me without me even knowing that I needed to be saved. When we express gratitude, we open our hearts to healing and happiness and let go of things that we no longer need to hold on to. It's not easy to find gratitude after such horrific experiences, but it's possible to find it. We simply start by seeking for the desire to be thankful. After that, it will come if we exercise faith.
6. I have to keep striving. Stop crying. Get out of bed. Put one foot in front of the other. And continue on in faith doing the things you know you should be doing, and the rest will fall into place. You don't get anywhere in life if you spend it crying in a bed or a chair. You experience peace and healing by living and moving forward. And I will be the first to admit that it is not always easy. There will be days for a long, long time where you grieve and cry. There will be days where you will feel like you cannot continue. There will be days where all of your feelings come to the surface in the form of tears. And there will be days you just want to scream because you cannot avoid the prickly parts of healing from trauma.
But I promise you that there will also be days where you find unexpected smiles creeping across your lips. There will be days when you'll meet new people that you're meant to love and be loved by. There will be days when you find yourself laughing again. There will be days when you'll experience joy in the moment, peace for the past, and hope for the future. These moments are what make the painful moments completely worth it.
Healing is possible. It doesn't come instantly but IT DOES COME. There are still days that I hurt and struggle. There are still days that I have to relive the past. There are still days that I experience longing and hopelessness, but they get less and less the more I strive for healing. It's important to remember that you are always loved. And there is ALWAYS help and happiness ahead.
When a person undergoes such a deep traumatic event that is the betrayal of a loved one's trust in such a circumstance as mine, there are two realizations that occur. These realizations came so quickly for me, and they destroyed me to a point where I couldn't feel anything in the moment. I simply felt dreadfully numb.
The first gut wrenching realization was the betrayal itself. I felt like I'd been cheated on. It changed my entire relationship with him including all the happy memories that we had shared in the past. It made me feel worthless and unlovable. It made me feel like it was all my fault, and if I would have just done one thing or another differently, I could have changed something. The betrayal itself cut like a knife, but the second realization cut even harder.
My second realization was that someone I loved and cared for deeply had been expertly lying to me for the entire length of our relationship, and possibly longer since we had been friends for so long. All at once I was with a stranger instead of the person I thought I knew so well. In an instant I could never trust those lying eyes ever again. In order to lie to somebody that you spend such large amounts of time with, it takes expertise thought and effort to hide such a big secret. So not only did he lie, but he planned carefully how to lie and get away with it. And not once did it ever cross his mind how much that would hurt me. That fact stung. It stung deep, and it stung hard. All I ever wanted in a relationship was honesty, and it quickly occurred to me that the only honesty I'd known at that point in time was fake.
Neither of these deep realizations felt real to me at first. I woke up every morning for quite some time thinking that maybe it was just a sick joke and tomorrow would be better and back to "normal." It seemed so unreal to me, and I didn't know how I was ever going to live my life without him, or without my "happy wedding" going through. Along with everything else I was feeling, I felt dreadful loneliness deeper than I've ever felt before, or that I've ever felt since.
These intense feelings lasted for quite some time, and there were days that I wondered if I had lost my mind, or my sanity... or both. Nothing seemed to make complete sense to me as I was forced to navigate functioning in this cold and distant reality while everyone else went on with their lives in the present. I felt stuck as I learned that navigating this form of trauma was something I had to take one day at a time.
The first signs of healing were the greatest blessing to me. The first signs of healing were like a massive weight being lifted off my shoulders by some Power beyond my own. That first taste of healing came in the form of less tears and a clearer mind. At one point I had finally lost the constant feeling of needing to scream all the time, and that elephant that was sitting on me finally left my presence. When that occurred the tightness in my throat and the constant nausea lifted and I felt incredibly thankful. The first bits of relief made me feel like I'd been delivered into a place where I could function in the present again, and I began to find myself and navigate my new skin. What I didn't know was that navigating my new skin would not be an easy task.
My new skin... I didn't even know I had shed an old skin. I just felt awkward and uncomfortable most of the time, and I didn't completely understand why. I felt vulnerable at that time, and as I learned to navigate my new skin that vulnerability beamed a little too brightly.
First, I found myself talking too much. Up until then I'd spent most of my life like a little mouse too afraid to say anything in fear of "rocking the boat," or "offending someone." Now, as if in one fell swoop, I couldn't get myself to stop speaking my mind. It's like I woke up one day and realized that I had intelligent things to say, and then I resolved to not let anything stop me from saying them. I felt like I had a story to tell, and I was going to tell anyone and everyone who was willing to listen. I rolled the events in my life over in my head a million times, and as a result of that I probably rolled those thoughts over to a half a dozen random people. Some of those people left deep hand-prints on my heart as they played an incredibly important role in my healing process simply because they were willing to listen. Some are now some of my closest friends, to which I'm thankful for that unique time in my life.
After this odd phase of grief, I went through what I felt at the time was a relapse. I spent many long nights crying myself to sleep, grieving over what I'd lost, and trying to keep silent about it because I didn't want to burden anyone with past pain that very much manifested itself in the present moment. I told myself it was past and I had no reason to be hurting this greatly now. I learned later that what I was experiencing was completely normal, and you don't just overcome trauma in a few months time.
Believe it or not, that phase of grief passed as well, and little by little I started to feel like myself again. I suppose that brings us to the here and now. It's been one year, and I feel like a completely different person. It's funny how pain increases your capacity to feel both the good and the bad...
I am now driven to tears so much easier than I used to be.
When others express their pain to me, I quite literally can feel their pain.
Fear is a constant companion of mine.
The thought of opening my heart up to someone again makes me feel sick and panicky.
I almost always feel suspicious of the people around me that I don't know.
The walls around my heart are stronger than ever and it's going to take a miracle to break them down.
I don't trust people. I just don't.
The problem with walls is that the resolve to have such a strong defense is lonely and isolating. But it's so much easier to resolve to never love again because if I stay on my own, I don't have to fear the cost of betrayal, or the cost of a broken heart. Such dilemmas as this are not things that I will even pretend to have figured out, because I have not. But... I do know that with the negative impact there have also been blessings...
I have discovered my strong will and determination to stand for what's right.
I now found the courage to speak my mind and the temperance to hold my tongue when necessary.
I have a new sense of resilience that rests in my heart at all times.
I have recognized that after such a deep wound to the heart comes the greater capacity to love those around me.
I have also identified the need that everybody has for compassion and the great ability I have to offer that love and compassion to those in my life who are going through difficult things.
I have gained a greater faith and hope in God's plan for me and for His eternal perspective of my life's purpose.
My trust in people my be slim to none, but my trust in God has increased ten fold and continues to sustain me through the pains that I still sometimes suffer from.
Betrayal trauma is real. It's long term effects are real. And the pain it causes is real. As a victim of betrayal trauma, you have every right to feel your pain at it's true capacity. And then once you've recognized the true capacity of that pain, it gives you the power to be able to shed it and then create something beautiful out of it.
Note from the Writer: This article is in no way, shape, or form intended to be used as a way to "man bash" or condemn my ex-fiance. In the past year of my life, I have felt complete forgiveness towards him and the decisions that he made at that point in his life. I truly hope the best for him and wish him well. I share my story today in hopes to reach a point of understanding and compassion for everyone who is going through, or who has gone through something similar. I know I am not the first woman in the world to be betrayed, therefore I feel a deep connection to all of my fellow sisters who have been hurt. This is to all of you who feel dreadfully alone... You are not. You are understood. You are loved. Heaven is watching out for you and God is aware of your tears. There is hope and happiness ahead.
I have always been a very religious person. Religion has always been the core and center of my life and actions, and I grew up being taught true principles of the institution of marriage and family. I was always taught God’s purposes for marriage and family, and how to seek for and live in such a way that we can be blessed with an eternal family and an eternal marriage.
“Families can be together forever.” That was my dream since I was a young girl observing my older siblings lives and watching them marry in the Temple and find joy through obedience to the doctrines and principles of the gospel. I wanted a marriage that would last forever. I wanted a love that was governed by God’s law, therefore making it the only true and pure form of love that exists in our world today. I dreamed of children and my joy being made full by raising a generation of strong and faithful children of God. These were all righteous and worthy goals and dreams. There was just one problem with this vision: I thought it would be easy.
Not only am I single as I write this article, but I’m THAT girl. That girl that spent 6 months with a ring on her finger thinking that I had finally found what I'd been looking for. The girl that was about to step foot into the journey of her "dreams coming true.” That girl that planned an entire wedding only to find a week prior that it was all a lie from the beginning. That girl that has a story to tell. That girl that believes that experiences like this MUST BE TALKED ABOUT because keeping quiet only leaves blank spaces for deeper wounds and undeniable scars. So today I’m finally talking about it. Because my hope is that someone else out there that reads this knows that she's not the first one to go through something similar, and it’s okay to hurt for a long long time. It’s okay to take time to grieve. It’s okay to feel broken for a while. And there IS HOPE FOR HEALING, even if in the moment, the healing that you seem to desperately be seeking for seems unreachable.
It’s been one year. One long year where I’ve had the opportunity to experience a cleansing process that has left me feeling like I’ve shed my old skin… And the funny thing is that at times I still feel like I’m trying to get used to my new skin. The new me. The me that was born out of indescribable and insurmountable levels of pain that I never thought I’d experience. It’s been one year since my entire world came crashing down within seconds, and my whole life changed.
I still remember that night as if it were yesterday. I was sitting on the couch with my fiancé, and everything seemed blissful. I was to be married in a week, and I loved this man very much. We had spent four years building a friendship, and almost a year cultivating a relationship of love that is patient and kind. A relationship that I thought to be above any other relationship I’d ever find. My life seemed like pure bliss, but even so, I felt a distant sting and fragility in the air that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, so I stubbornly pushed it in the back of my mind and tuned my thoughts to visions of wedded bliss.
I expressed to my fiancé the thoughts and concerns that seemed to buzz through my mind, but he assured me that all was well and that all would continue to be well. I believed him. I trusted him. And I resolved in my mind that I was just being paranoid with my own worries that were irrelevant and irrational.
I resolved to keep busy, concluding that my worries would subside. I suggested we go and run an errand for the long-anticipated wedding we’d been planning for the past six months. And for whatever reason, I stood up and reached for his phone instead of mine to inquire as to when a particular store would be closed.
That’s when I found it.
Three words on his search bar that changed my entire visage. Three words that concluded that he’d been searching for pornography possibly just hours ago. My entire demeanor must have changed in the brief second when I read those words because he inquired of me what was wrong. I asked why those words were typed into his search bar, and I looked at him with pleading eyes hoping that there was some logical explanation.
Somewhere within the course of those events, I exited out of that window on his phone, only to find multiple windows open of sick and twisted ideas of what women supposedly look like. I felt sick to my stomach.
He did a great job.
He put on a show.
He reassured me that his brother had a problem, so the only obvious answer was that his brother got a hold of his phone and it wasn’t him.
The coldest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life is the lying eyes of the man I love gazing deep into the windows of my soul as multiple lies rolled from his lips. He knew it was all a lie, but for some reason, he could look at the woman that he claimed to love so dearly straight in her eyes and lie straight to her face. I never knew until that moment how unconsciously cold a single person could be.
We talked for hours… it felt like days… And somehow, he managed to semi convince me it wasn’t him.
I came home that night with a pit in my stomach. Feeling like there was darkness all around me, and for some reason, it wouldn’t leave.
I’ll never forget when the truth finally came out.
I called him on the phone and asked for reassurance again. I pleaded for the truth, but I didn’t believe it was him until it finally came out.
Those words still sting. “It’s me… I have a problem.”
At first, I thought it was some sick joke. It never occurred to me that pornography addiction would ever leak into my life or affect me in such a deep and excruciating way. I’d never thought too much about that particular aspect of people’s lives until it glared at me in the face through dark and wicked eyes. At first, I thought maybe I called the wrong number. I thought there isn’t a way in the world this could be true. I pleaded with God: “Please no… No. No. NO! Please don’t do this to me!”
The phone fell out of my hands and hung up before I had a chance to say much more. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to kick and punch the wall. But in that moment, I felt paralyzed. I had a sudden frightening sensation of someone grasping at my neck as if someone or something was attempting to suffocate me to my death.
It wasn’t long before I found myself sobbing and screaming uncontrollably. Between sobs, my heart felt morbidly dysfunctional and stone cold. Little did I know it would feel like that for a very long time. I firmly called my wedding off as I sat across from the man I loved who suddenly seemed to be a stranger. I spent the night restlessly in a panic with uncontrollable tremors from my head to my toes. Everything felt dark and empty, and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the sun wasn’t going to come up in the morning this time. Maybe I’d be swallowed up by this suffocating darkness for the rest of my life.
The occurrence of events after that is irrelevant. Looking back, everything seemed blurry and painful for days and weeks on end. It was all over with him. But the pain wasn’t. And it wouldn’t be for a very long time.
The days passed in everyone else’s world, while my time seemed to have stopped. Time for me was now measured by all of the different kinds of agony I was feeling. It seemed to change so frequently.
At times I felt as though someone had taken a dagger and fiercely pierced it into my heart. Over time it would then slowly be yanked out and then thrust back in again.
I almost always felt on the verge of tears. And no matter how hard I tried to keep them inside me, my tries were futile.
I couldn’t eat.
I couldn’t sleep.
Everything felt lonely.
Everything reminded me of him.
Everything made me feel overwhelmingly sick to my stomach.
I felt paralyzed.
I felt traumatized.
I felt worthless.
And I felt incredibly afraid.
There were lots of times where I felt uncontrollably numb.
I’ve scrolled through Facebook countless times and have seen all of my friend’s wedding announcements and happy wedding days. When this whole journey began, I didn’t understand why the whole world seemed to be able to marry the first person they were engaged to. And I didn’t understand why everyone else deserved love and happiness, but I didn’t. I felt like I’d been robbed… Robbed of my eternal marriage and cheated out of my eternal family. And unfortunately, this feeling of being robbed was accompanied by emotional pain and suffering I never even knew existed. I didn’t even know that all of my extreme thoughts and feelings had a name. But for some reason, once I found a name for it, I felt less alone.
Dr. Jill Manning, a marriage and family therapist and Certified Clinical Partner Therapist, defines trauma as “a deeply distressing or overwhelming experience that is commonly followed by emotional and physical shock. If left unresolved or untreated, traumatic experiences can lead to short and long-term challenges.” Dr. Manning then goes on to state that “betrayal trauma occurs when someone we depend on for survival or are significantly attached to, violates our trust in a critical way.”
Considering the fact that there’s a clinical name for it, I don’t believe that betrayal trauma is a rare condition. Nor do I believe that the number of people that are affected by it are small in number. Unfortunately the world we live in is filled with evil influences, traps, and snares that lead people to make poor choices, and therefore hurt the people that they are supposed to be loving the most. I suppose that’s why it’s so important that we cling to a loving and merciful Heavenly Father and Savior, Jesus Christ who is always the way back to hope and healing, no matter how far you’ve strayed, or whether you are the victim or the perpetrator in any given situation.
For my particular situation, I was the victim. And in such cases as mine, I had to reach the point where I stopped seeing myself as a victim, and saw myself as a woman of God with innate power and ability to experience healing and wholeness once again, which is exactly what I intended on doing…
Throughout my life, I've had the privilege of sharing my story with lots of different minds and hearts that I've met along the way. Putting the intense battle of so many various kinds of pain into words that are relatable to the average person always seems to be an arduous task on my part, and I frequently seem to receive the same message from people that don't know me very well yet:
"Wow, Claire... That's really personal." or,
"I'm surprised you just shared all of that with me... that's really personal." or,
"Wow... you've been through a lot."
As expected, these comments are usually accompanied with wide eyes, dropped jaws, and a look of bewilderment. It wouldn't surprise me if at times people read my blogs and think similar thoughts.
Now, don't get me wrong... I have experienced very valuable conversations with people about my adversities as well, and this isn't to say that I don't appreciate the chances I do have for listening ears and open minds to hear me out and answer my cries for help with love and compassion. Those people know who they are, and they are very much loved and have forever left handprints on my heart.
But for this particular post, I want to articulate to my dear readers why I'm so very vocal about illness and tragedies, and why I feel such a deep desire to share my story, even if at times it may sound terribly personal, or be overwhelming to listen to or read.
I recently came across this quote on a Facebook page I follow that is dedicated to spreading awareness for Endometriosis (something that I've struggled with for years). This quote really hit home for me personally and is partially why I felt inspired to write this post. Which brings me to my first reason for refusing to stay silent in the midst of suffering:
1. It took me a really long time to develop a voice, and now I finally have it. I vividly remember in high school I obsessively agonized over what people thought of me. I was the "perfectly well behaved high school girl." I couldn't stand it if a single hair on my head was misplaced, or if a single drop of makeup was smeared or absent. I didn't have enough courage to say what I thought most of the time, and when I did say what I thought I was usually ridiculed or quickly shut down by my peers or teachers. This subconsciously lead me to believe that being fake and keeping my mouth shut was the best option in most cases. That, or subconsciously believing that I was incredibly unintelligent at least kept me in a social standpoint where I never had to step outside of the status-quo unless I was around a trusted friend where I could finally just be myself.
All of these false beliefs turned out to be incredibly damaging to me as I grew older and suffered greater tragedies than mere harsh judgments from my peers. I reached a point where I truly believed that I was stupid and worthless, and it's been a battle ever since to remember who I am and why I'm here. About a year ago, I suffered tremendous loss in my life, and when that happened, something inside me finally woke up. Ultimately, I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of thinking that what I have to say isn't worth hearing. I FINALLY found my voice. And now that I have it, I'm not going to be silent.
2. Deep connection and inspiration don't come from silence. Here's something to consider: Why would all of us be put on this earth TOGETHER, to experience pain and suffering, if we were never supposed to talk about our experiences? Adversity and hardship exist so that we can learn, grow, and be inspired, but we were not meant to do that alone. If we were, we wouldn't all be here TOGETHER.
Everybody has a story that can bring tears to the toughest of people, but cold hearts and false beliefs are born out of silence. If I choose to stay silent about my suffering, I'm depriving someone else of the strength that they may not know exists yet. If I'm too afraid to share my story, I'm sending a message of fear to a society that is already riddled with fear and anxiety for the future. In order to understand and truly appreciate the light in life, you have to experience and understand the darkness. That's non-negotiable, but thankfully God blesses us with other people to help us to understand the darkness so we don't have to experience every ounce of suffering by ourselves. And through our pain and suffering, we can learn to succor others... which is my next point.
3. We're not meant to suffer alone. When I think back to the times that I've been bedridden for months on end, I've tried multiple times to pinpoint the worst part of it all. And I have to be honest... The worst part of Lyme disease and Endometriosis isn't the long nights of seizures, puking, and indescribable lower abdominal pain. It's not endless exhaustion, joint pain, and muscle pain. It's not panic attacks, depression, and fits of Lyme rage. The hardest part of chronic illness... is the isolation. I've had so many nights where I've felt like I'm the only one in the world who is suffering on such an immense level. I've felt completely and utterly alone as I've come to realize that while I'm fighting a disease, everyone else's lives are continuing on without me.
Nobody deserves to suffer alone. Almost 50% of America suffers from one or more chronic illnesses, and while the other 50% are near oblivious to the excruciating suffering of us warriors of invisible illness, we're fighting for our lives. Everybody needs help. Every one needs support. Every person needs compassion. We were put on this earth to help each other. We're put on this earth to experience pure love, but I truly believe that we cannot do that without experiencing hardship and being willing to walk the more difficult roads in life. If my story can bring hope, peace, or strength to even just one person... it's worth it to me. It's worth the vulnerability. It's worth the chance that I could be shut down or ridiculed by some. It's worth opening up and being personal. We all need people we can relate to. Silence cuts us off from that connection that we all need in order to survive this life.
This is why I refuse to be silent anymore. This is why I speak up and speak out. This is why I believe that we all need to be a little more personal... because connecting hearts and promoting comfort and healing is so much more important than feeding our fear and protecting our pride.