The Road to Revelation
He Couldn’t Overcome It In His Lifetime, But I Will
What was the greatest mistake you’ve ever made?
Do you know?
Think about it.
I’ve made a ton of mistakes in my life up until now, but the biggest one is glaringly clear.
Made so early and so innate that identifying it only leads to more awareness of all the offshoot mistakes.
It is trust.
It is truth.
It’s my life.
There’s no way of undoing any of it, and as I peel back the unending layers of disillusionment, I am met with judgment from others—claims that I’m on a path of self-destruction.
Perhaps that’s true.
As I contemplate exit routes—jobs or places I could theoretically disappear to—I recognize how any of them would only serve to prolong my inevitable journey.
Where is the bottom?
What is the bottom?
I’ve sidestepped anger and outrage for so long that reconciliation has become impossible.
I’ve let every demon go in the final moments.
I’ve moved on so many times—for my peace, for my safety, for my sanity—leaving each of them lost in their lies, ignorance, and blame.
I’ve often been praised for my strength, though that’s been misguided.
It’s my endurance.
It’s been my silence.
It’s my survival.
But so what?
Now it’s my turn to reflect and dissect.
But for what?
The past can’t ever be changed.
Not forgotten.
Not rewritten.
At least, not by me.
They all dismissed me and our involvements.
I didn’t.
Now they’re all dead or long lost.
It makes no sense to ponder what could’ve been.
It makes no sense to compromise my views or my values anymore.
I can’t even seem to, though at times I wish I could.
I’ve tried convincing myself I could ignore so many things—each time winding up in more pain.
More accusations.
More loss.
She watches.
She feeds on it.
She loves it.
So what must I do to move on?
I have no clue.
So I wait.
So I wonder.
So I pray.
I find or create opportunities and take action—patiently bending to the authority, temperament, and interests of others.
Dare I don’t, then I get more hell to pay.
Despite all proof and consequences, I remain hopeful, optimistic, and appreciative—truly believing that the outcome will be different each time.
Ultimately repeating my well-worn pattern of error: My undying faith.
I have no idea what will come next, though I am quite clear on what it is I still need.
It’s the same as it’s ever been—today, forty-nine years after Day One.
I need an advocate, not advice.
A shoulder and solace.
A true friend.
They don’t seem to exist.
Not for me, anyhow.
So as my fingers and toes burn from the bitter cold and the wind loudly howls through the trees, I pour my soul out onto the page for you—curious if, perhaps, something might finally change.
I know exactly how I got here.
Every misstep.
Each ounce of misguided trust.
But none of it matters.
It’s too late.
So now what?
Who knows.
I Am My Father’s Daughter.
And you could help.
Thank you for your consideration:
https://www.givesendgo.com/GrowthSeekersWelcome
🕊️