Unencumbered

Once upon a time, I was lied to for over a decade.

Not because I was careless, but because my heart and my actions were true.

I stood for the health and welfare of those too young to understand.

My patience and my hope were unwavering, because they were the only language my heart knew.

I would not have survived without intervention—without grace—

because hope without reciprocity becomes self-abandonment,

and abandon myself, I did.

What hurt most, in hindsight, was not only the betrayal,

but the witnesses.

Some participated.

Some stayed silent.

Some benefited.

It is a strange thing to see people pray for healing

while taking part in the wounding of another.

Still, I do not curse those who watched or assisted.

Their reasons belong to them.

My hope for them, and for those they love,

is that when darkness comes,

they are met by someone like me—

someone who does not look away,

someone who stands in the weather,

someone who speaks when it is uncomfortable to speak.

Because they knew.

And knowing carries responsibility.

As for the one who betrayed me—

I am simply grateful to no longer be encumbered

by that version of love.

Nothing here was wasted.

What was meant to undo me clarified me.

It was with God’s precision that I came to know my way.

There is no need for understanding from others this moment on.

I hold enough acceptance for myself,

and acceptance for what is in place.

I do—and will continue to—receive what remains.

I owe no one the meaning of what this carried for me.

I owe myself peace.

Peace in the undoing of a belief system

that almost took me.