Facebook wars

“When you write in alignment to their beliefs you are Enlightened. Anything opposing them makes you dark, unkind, abusive, and cruel.” I have placed one boundary I believe, in my entire life. I used to wonder what made them so excruciating and fearful, until now. Now that family has deleted me off facebook, the day before Easter, I see that what was just ridiculous fear is no longer ridiculous, for I am without a doubt, for once, not being punished for insanity, but am rejected, cast out, chastised and deleted, for living my truth. The truth is my fears were not insanity but bigger than I ever imagined. The truth is I was behaving in a crazy assigned role and as soon as I decided to stop living as if I were insane, to speak my truth, to announce my wholeness, I am deleted. I really played that role for fear of this day, the day I would be abandoned not for being sick or bad, but being me. Just me with nothing to lose or hide has received so much grief, no wonder I had settled for being less. Supposedly, truth sets you free but I question even that today, writing just to heal is filled with crazy doubt and fear, a blog post could eliminate you off every Christmas list and so I shudder to even face this today, not wanting to publish for more punishment lies waiting to pounce.

The bottomless pit of truth reveals “Pretenders” are rewarded with open arms, Easter invites and gifts and warm food. They are labeled as in a “good” place, their children are picked up and nurtured, they are spoken to with love and respect. The day you decide not to pretend, be afraid, aware, on the edge of your seat. Be prepared for war.
My mother always said that she knew when my writing was in a bad place, an abuse of a gift, and so I cringed and deleted most of my earlier years of writing, uncertain and terrified to not be given approval, much less labeled destructive. I live in a black and white family, issues that ever address any part of my childhood or adult life stand for or against, bad or good, blame will be assigned, leaving no room for grey, funny since I just realize Grey is the middle name I chose for Kat.
Through the evolvement of this blog, I have been praised and encouraged as I have healed the wounds of my father, praying silently to only address my mother after she is dead, for fear of her mistrust with words, but ultimately me. My heart knows I write from love and personal truth, never to hurt or condemn or judge, a black and white jury would burn this concept to the ground. For my father to be addressed makes me courageous, anything else is cruel and abusive. I will moarn the loss of family, however an illusion, it still is a death, a loss of insurmountable proportion, and I will put myself in front of the mirror for any and all parts of myself to be examined. Of course, I am not without fault. I have much to learn from my critics. What I refuse to do however, is put down my pen. I refuse to pretend I am inherently flawed or wrong to have come here a writer, nor do I wish to be shamed or labeled cruel for this gift. It did not make me good or bad to call out my dad or his mistress, and however one feels about having a writer in the family, exposing all the secrets, lies, and heartache, I have no judgment. I know it is not easy to be loved by a writer. Trust me, it’s not easy being one. But I am not responsible for the feelings others have if they are to be exposed, and I will not take on this burden anymore, pretend I will no longer, for no artist created anything of lasting value living in fear of their critics.
I stand not for anyone but myself, and that my friends, can be a path only few dare travel. I stand fiercely to the belief if you live with no opposition, are you living through personal truth and power? If your work costs nothing, does it even matter? What are you avoiding to not face pain, betrayal, or abandonment? These questions got me deleted off facebook but they will not destroy my Spirit. The Spirit of the living God within, no doubt will rise. It shall, again and again. It is the Easter message and he was a symbol to all humanity for what truth and love endures. Here’s to you, Jesus Christ. I am certain you have not been deleted off facebook, but I wonder if a stone felt any harsher.

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2 thoughts on “Facebook wars

  1. I know all o well the pain of familial rejection because you refuse to follow the status quo of “shut up and smile while doing it”. You my dear are in deed a black sheep. Embrace it. I have decided to view my own blacksheep status as a compliment from the lord above. He doesn’t test a feeble heart for it would be a waste of time. Feeble minds tend to live their life on earth somewhat unscathed. If you find youself fortunate enough to be worthy of the tests, trials and tribulations that ultimately result in a refining and redefining of you’re moral character, than you shall consider yourself lucky enough to be worthy of the lords time. He ain’t no fool ; ) and neither are you. Stand strong. He chose you because he believes in you and admires your strength in character. You’re worth his time. YOU ARE WORTH HIS TIME. Ps, I’m thinking he spends little to no time on facebook. The people there are to predictable. Most find comfort in virtual ego boosts and have a self esteem built on shifting sands. Build yours in something solid. : )

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