“What a commentary on our civilization, when being alone is considered suspect; when one has to apologize for it, make excuses, hide the fact that one practices it—like a secret vice!”
-Anne Morrow Lindbergh
It will be five whole months tomorrow since I broke from my old church (officially), and branched away on a new path in life. As is typical, it both seems longer and fresher than that.
In the early days, I was trying to be cautious — attempting to avoid offence. My goal was to take the steps I personally found necessary, while maintaining relationships. I felt this was possible, despite our differences. Though I inwardly rejoiced in my freedom, I didn’t want to flaunt these disparities to people who were fixated on side issues and ignoring the heart of what I was saying to them. I did not leave them so that I could live differently than them– I’ve always lived differently than them.
Having had my pleas for understanding unheard, having faced strange accusations, having learned about lies and hidden agendas — I now realize the attempts to avoid misunderstanding were largely wasted. I may as well toss aside my caution and embrace a greater (and more public) honesty. It’s not only healthier for me, but for others who have been hurt as I have… and perhaps for those who remain uncertain.
Yesterday was the first day of spring. My husband’s hops are sending up shoots, our fruit trees are on the verge of bursting into bloom, and the first of my garden seeds are peeking out of the damp soil. Like these tiny bits of new green, I’m allowing bits of who I am to emerge from my veil of introverted privacy. Publicly approving something controversial, posting opinions and photos on social media, referencing my decisions instead of avoiding the topics — hello, world! Here am I.
“Truth uncompromisingly told will always have its ragged edges.”