I have been away. I really wish I would have stuck it out. Now I must start this journey all over again. I need to grow. This blog is private, personal and completely 100% me. It frightens me that maybe I'm not going to like what I find once I peel back all of my layers. I'm catching glimpses of that now.
Something I have discovered about myself recently is the fact that I have a need to please people and I have a need to be liked. One of the horrid people in this small gossip-y town started telling people that deep down I'm truly evil. Her opinion of me doesn't bother me. I have really been honest with myself concerning that but when she tells other people, I do worry that some people may believe her. Then I get angry at myself for even caring that people who know me and still believed it were worthy of my time because they are not. Why do I need people to like me? I don't think I want to be popular, just one of those people that aren't hated by anyone. Maybe to be a person like that, first I must not hate anyone myself. What is that saying about never meeting a man he never liked? I think that is where I must begin.
Tonight at a meeting, a person who I have been friendly with in the past was very cold to me. She seemed uncomfortable and angry that I sat at her table. She was a little rude too. All I could think was "does she believe the rumor?!" and I wanted to cry. Yes, these bitchy gossip-y women brought me to tears tonight and I let them. I'm so tired. I'm tired of the cattiness. I'm tired of the Facebook wars. I'm tired of pretending that all these months of attacking me hasn't taken it's toll. I want to give in and just move away. It is obvious I do not fit in. I'll never be what everyone expects me to be. I was so happy being me until so many people in this town pointed out that the current me is severely lacking.
I'm sad. I want to feel confident again. I thought I made huge progress this weekend by growing in Christ and my faith but today has set me back. I cannot trust anyone in this town. Except for my dear lone friend H. She is constant.
