Hiding used to be my M.O.
Something was missing, but that missing part of me lurches in rebellion and out of reach.
Showing any sign of emotion is weak; at least that’s what I have told myself when I was still going to school. If I showed my emotions then I show them my vulnerability and that is a big faux pas. I was convinced that my feelings would lead me down the dark alley and I wanted to avoid that path.
I was bullied from grades 4 to 8. During this time, I became restrictive with my emotional expression. There were no obvious reasons for this bullying, so I started looking for some kind of explanation, any understanding, but I couldn’t find anything to satisfy why it was happening. At one point, my Dad even asked, if I had done something to provoke this kind of taunting. This upset me that a parent would ask this kind of question or even raise the possibility. Already, I had been over whether this problem was my doing. If I was doing something wrong, and if I was, I was clueless as to what the solution could be.
Being bullied wasn’t the kind of attention that I went looking for, my aim was to stay below the radar. It was impossible for me to excel in school, or even contemplate the idea. Sunday is a day I dread, even though I’m no longer in school. It is the beginning of the week for some, but for me it is the day before Monday. The day I would have to go to school, and face the unknown in the wilderness where the jackals roamed aimlessly. Their teeth puncturing at the tender spots. Survival was the only thing that concerned me and that meant pushing away those annoying emotions that would pop up.
People would give me advice, of course they did.
I tried telling them off, but they(classmates) always had a better and cleverer retorts that would fill me with anger. I wanted to reply, but I would squashed any courage to do so.
Hiding from what my heart craved. I began to create a reality that did not match the desire that stirred inside of me. Love moved within me, but I refused to believe that I could really have what I wanted or that I would ever find it.
The more they bothered me, the further I retreated inside of myself. Curiosity usually gets the best of me, and I wanted to know why they were mean to me. What had I done? There was nothing from my perception that would cause this kind of pain. In the end, I put the blame on myself – no, I heaped the blame.
If time travel were possible, I would travel back to when school was good. I loved imaginative play because of the endless possibilities. I loved being by myself, and just doing what I enjoyed.
Withdrawing from the pain, I believed helped me to endure the unknown that always lurked at every comment and the small effort to be like them. I convinced myself that I didn’t deserve goodness in my life, that’s was how I handled the hurt. Low self-esteem ran through my blood poisoning all the thoughts that could’ve been turned around and squashed. I built a wall of protection,so that no one could touch or see me.
For the longest time, I didn’t even know what I was doing was hiding, it was just this trick that I was convinced protected me. Eventually, I reached the point that the constructed protection I had provided for myself was getting in the way, but it had become a habit, so to speak.
Seek, I did, but my ability was slight and was struck down my anger and fear in the beginning. We all hide from things we are afraid of, but it became a way of life for me. The only way I found was to stay in the emotion, and then I understood what I was hiding from. The edgiest of the feelings somehow led me to what had been my undoing.
Everyone knows when you play hide and seek as children, it’s not all about hiding, which is only the introduction, it is the seeking that takes up most of the game. Yes, choose a good hiding place, but don’t be shy to be found because it is what we all want in the end. Everyone wants to be found. It was all I wanted; to be seen by others, but in the light of His love.