Courageous dignity in the presence of fate.

I’ll start this by saying that my life has been a daily struggle since I lived in MA. I haven’t been happy since then. Sometimes, I think that leaving there was the biggest mistake of my life. It’s been nearly ten years since I left New England, and my life has been out of control. I’ve been fighting that every single day. Trying with every ounce of energy that I can find, to manage my life, to control it, to make things go according to my plan. Most days there wasn’t much energy and there wasn’t a very good plan, but being in control is my nature. It’s all I’ve ever known, and it’s the only thing I’m comfortable with. I’ve never felt much of a need to control anybody else, but always to be in complete control of me. “Good things don’t happen to you unless you make them happen.” I’ve always believed that to be true… until now.
Some people will think that I must be very strong and very brave if it took 10 years of fighting before I finally gave in. Some people will be wrong. It seems to me that strength and bravery require stepping outside of your comfort zone, not hiding inside of it. When all you know how to do is fight, it takes true bravery to put down your sword and your shield, and admit defeat. When you’ve been taught to rely on no one but yourself, it takes more strength to ask for help than it does to pretend you’ve got it under control. When you’ve been told that God will hand you nothing that you cannot handle, it takes an awful lot to make you realize that that’s not entirely true.
Realizing that there truly is something greater and more powerful out there than I will ever be, has been a sobering, terrifying, painful experience. It has also been the most beautiful, freeing, exhilarating thing I’ve ever been through. Surrendering to that power, admitting that I can’t do everything on my own, and realizing that my plan is worthless – that has been the biggest test of my character. I have managed to make it through those things. Now, my work is to embody “grace under pressure” and to have “courageous dignity in the presence of fate.” To surrender as a result of fear is a shameful thing. To make the conscious decision to surrender, and to do so with dignity – sometimes, that is an act to be respected.
I suppose now is the time to explain how I’ve come to these conclusions. The breakdown that I wrote about in the first entry of this blog was a defining moment for me. It was as though all of the heartache, pain, and struggle of the past ten years had come crashing down on my soul at once. It’s a bit difficult for me to admit that the catalyst for all of this was heartbreak. I know, I know, you’re all thinking “Heartbreak? You? The one who has such little tolerance for romantic sentiments? The one doesn’t do that icky love stuff?”. Yeah, I stand before you a humbled person. Every once in awhile, it gets me in it’s grasp and pinches my flesh between it’s razor sharp talons (See? I still think it’s cruel, and it’s not all hearts and flowers like some people make it out to be. I haven’t gone completely mad!). Now is one of those times. Right when I thought that things were as bad as they could be, and bound to stay that way forever… Well, that’s when I met Duncan.