Shady's Redemption

I have recently acquired the newest chapter of my book, entitled Shady's Redemption. There might actually be two chapters in the process, or I might combine them into one; either way the themes center around redemption (finally!) and freedom. So here is a little preview:

Honesty, schmonesty. Honesty is one of those buzz words we hear flying around today, with constant encouragements to be honest with one another. Honesty seems to be the key to healthy life and relationships, as if there were a simple key to fixing all relational problems. "Just tell him/her/them how you feel"... right? But it's not that simple. You see, in order to be honest with another, we must first be honest with ourself. And that is possibly the hardest task of all.

Being honest with oneself requires letting go of all the defenses we've developed in order to save us from painful realities. It requires facing our own brokenness and failure. It requires accepting the fact that we cannot "have our cake and eat it too," as a fellow blogger likes to say. However, refusing to admit and accept such realities and disappointments only impedes the possibility of healthy and fulfilling relationships. Our needs cannot be met if we cannot be honest about what those needs are. And as much as we (I am hoping that this generalizes beyond me) like to believe that we do not have needs, that simply is not true. We have no chance of real happiness until we are willing to admit such things, and thus be honest with ourselves.

As I said above, we cannot be honest with another until we are honest with ourself. Without such honesty, we only become frustrated in our relationships. I often hear girls say (and have said myself), "He just doesn't get me." Perhaps he doesn't, but have you (or I) given him a fair chance to? Maybe he's really trying to understand you, but until you can face the truth of who you are and show him that, he will never be able to understand you. The same is true for him as well; honesty is definitely not a one-sided thing.

Honesty is not easy, and I hope I have not given such an impression. It is absolutely one of the most difficult things in life. No one wants to face disappointments and limitations; but that is our reality. Being honest is also incredibly scary. It requires vulnerability of oneself, and trust in the other. Sometimes that trust is sustained, and other times it is broken; but even in the brokenness we find the honesty of the relationship (i.e. that the other could not be trusted in such a way) and then have the chance for healing.

I have fought honesty for so long. I did not want to face my weakness, or admit that I had fallen... in love. And I do mean fallen, in the sense that it was something I did not want to happen, and it showed how weak I was - I could not even control my emotions enough to stay out of love. So I thought I could get out of the relationship any time I wanted, because I didn't love him. Or maybe I couldn't face the fact that I truly wanted love, but that it was not found in this relationship and I continued to stay in the relationship. Or maybe I couldn't face the reality that I was being disrespected, that he didn't or couldn't care about me the way I wanted and needed. The disappointment was too much. So I tried to change myself, and I tried to change him. But nothing worked and things always went back to the same hurtful, disrespectful, unhealthy cycle. You see, the problem was that neither of us could be honest about how we really felt, and therefore could not be honest with each other.

This weekend I was finally honest - first with myself, then with him. I was honest with myself about feeling disappointed, disrespected, and wanting more. Then I went to him, and had one of the most honest and vulnerable conversations of my life. I'll sum it up in three points: 1. I told him that I love him. 2. He told me that he loves me. 3. He said, and I knew, that I am not what he wants. He has a very specific idea of the girl he wants to be with, and I do not match that picture. It was hard, it hurts, and I am sad; but I also have the peace of knowing that we were both honest. Maybe I didn't get what I wanted in him, but now I have the chance to get it from someone else. I might not believe in fairy-tales still (or yet, who knows), but I do have the hope again of finding love. You see, I have freed myself - actually, let's be honest: I don't really have the power to be honest like I was, that was all God. So I have rather been freed to believe that there is something more and better out there. Sure, I'm still jaded. But even a jadedness as deep and strong as mine can be redeemed, if only I will open myself to the honesty of who I am and what I want.