I have said in a few different blogs that I was shy growing up. I was! I really was! Making friends made me nervous and so did being in new places. But, I never thought being shy would shape my life the way it has.
The summer between my freshman and sophomore year of high school, my parents and I moved to a blink of an eye small town. I mean, it was tiny! My graduating class had forty-two people in it. We were also in the small percentage of the white population, both my parents were teachers, and we were moving into a house that was right across the street from the high school. I point all this out to one; set up where I’m going with today’s blog and two; I was later told all these things worked against me.
Anyway, moving on, as we were taking the time to paint rooms and move in, people would come by. Sometimes, it would be other teens. I would also meet them as we were doing things in town or what have you. Here is how that would go, “You must be that new girl K’Ellen,” or “You’re that new redhead.”
Wow! Talk about the perfect way to scare someone who is already so shy, they struggle to meet people! But, that is how it went throughout the summer as I met people. By the time I started the school year, the kids had an image of me, they thought me a snob. They decided because my quiet freak out that took place as they introduced themselves coupled with my not going to any event or party between that and the first school day meant that I was a stuck up, rich, snob. (Apparently, at that time, living across from the high school and both parents being teachers translated into being rich with the high school kids.)
I lived there for three years. While I had managed to make a handful of friends, the horrible treatment of everyone else outweighed their friendships. I couldn’t do anything without someone spreading lies about me. I couldn’t even like a guy and think we might actually date because if it was found out I was interested, they were quickly discouraged by others to think about it. Let that all build up together plus a traumatic event and you get someone who starts to beg her mom to let her go live with my aunt in Corpus Christi.
I didn’t move. I stayed and silently cried my way through those three years. In the midst of that time, I had a teacher who would let me talk to her. She, outside of my parents and handful of friends, was the only other person that showed kindness to me. She introduced me to the idea of having a Christ filled life. Because of her, I am a Christian today.
When I graduated high school, I wanted to run and never look back. I did as much as I could since my parents still lived there for a few more years. I will admit that I said out loud in front of my mom how much I hated the place and didn’t want to ever go back there. I’m sorry, Mom. I know that hurt your feelings. But, in my mind my viewpoint was this, never ever will I go back unless I am allowed to light the match that burns it down.
Yes, I was that upset, that unhappy, that torn up by all I had experienced there. Enduring that for three years, created a person who is deathly afraid of starting anything new. Big or small, it doesn’t matter. If it’s something new, I can’t breathe until I get through it. I struggle with making and maintaining friendships now because I’m scared of preconceived ideas they may have about me. This is how my life has been lived until recently.
You see, my Creator has a funny way of doing things. Four years ago, (Is that right, Jen?) I was sitting outside eating lunch with other teachers at orientation when I heard a new teacher behind me proudly say she was from that town. Let me just be honest and admit that while I was nice I avoided her for a while. I didn’t want anyone from there in my life ever again and here I was having to work with someone who was proud to be from there.
It took a few months, but I eventually went up to her one day and apologized for how I had been (that was a God thing and that’s where He started working in me). I explained to her why I do not see that town the same way she does. By being open and honest with her, we discovered we connected quite well with each other. To me, we weren’t just becoming work besties. She’s now one of my besties in life.
She and her husband (also from that town) have helped me to heal some from all the pain inflicted all those years ago. They have shown me that good can truly come from bad experiences. We are like minded and as couples (my husband is the only not from there) we have a good time together.
Maybe that’s why I love and support their ministry so much. I know the healing that can come from embracing your Creator and letting him truly set you free.
This is probably one of the few most open and honest blogs I will ever write. I write what’s on my heart and in my mind. I noticed a few weeks ago that my life has come full circle as far as the experiences in that town and where I am today. I left that town with such a bitter taste of hatred that I said the only way I would go back is if they dragged my dead body through it. Yes, I really said that. I was young and hurt. Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t have any desire to physically go back to the town. But, through the love of my Creator and the true love of two people from same town, I have begun to accept not everyone there had the intention to have such a negative effect on me. I have learned that people, each and everyone of us, is different. In my hatred, I had done what they did to me. I preconceived that anyone I met from there for the rest of my life had ill intent. Thanks to these two amazing friends, I am learning to slowly heal and forgive. I am learning to step into situations slowly at my pace to keep myself comfortable. I am learning that it really is okay to be the weird author who internalizes so deeply, it reads on my face. That’s part of my uniqueness. Thanks to my experiences so long ago, I have a perception of people that tells me what’s hidden under the outer layers. Maybe that scares people (my friend group is still pretty small) and maybe it doesn’t. One thing I know for sure now, it was always okay to be that new redhead, K’Ellen.
