There Isn't Space for a Double Life
I’ve been toxic and for twenty-five years, I lived a double life. One as the me that I knew, who showed up for myself behind closed doors. And as the me that showed up for others. I was a shapeshifter with a disdain for confrontation. So, I contorted and cultivated myself into whatever whoever needed in the moment.
On April 17, 2016, I got baptised. I remember Pastor Vernon said, “You’re making a public declaration that you given your life to Christ. But your life may not change." And mine didn’t. Baptism affirmed the decision I had made the year prior. I felt whole, but it didn't change my surroundings. So, I resisted. I spent the rest of 2016 and the latter of 2017 operating in old spaces with old faces outside of Him.
It’s no surprise that 2018 hit me like a truck. In February, still reeling from a friendship break, I told my then boyfriend that I hated him and that I wished he die. I felt unseen as we attempt to tackle disagreement through texts and calls. So, I spiraled then raged as I smashed my tangibles and cried to the heavens for death. “This always happens,” I cried to my mother. “It’s always my fault and I’m always unheard,” I said.
In March, I quit my job. Then in April and May, I held it together by saying less and pushing myself to do more. Then I exploded again in June after another rift. Defeated, I told my mother that I wanted to die. “I am ready to stop suffering,” I told her. “I’m ready to go home, but it’s unfair. I’d try and not die because it’s not my time. I have to stay here with these people and just suffer,” I said.
Funny enough, I'd died months before. I had started to surrender and without realizing it, I changed. No longer did I have the heart to contort and to neglect me. Or to lie and to mold myself into what I wasn't. Yet, instead of accepting the old places with the old faces as is, I tried to change them. I realize now that I couldn't let go. I'd been living as someone I wasn’t for so long that I’d missed the message - these spaces with those faces were no longer for me. They could not receive me nor could I them. Yet, I tried. And when they wouldn't change, I bereted them and lashed out.
Despite feeling depleted from living like Mrs. and Dr., I resented Him for ripping the old from me; I wanted them to come. It’s taken time, but I see that showing up and dying in vain benefits everyone but me. And while there’s an argument for the nobility in being a martyr, it’s not one I care to embody any longer. There’s no room for a double life in Christ. I can no longer contort myself and cultivate relationships out of familiarity. So it’s time that I show up as me and trust that I’ll be led to new spaces with new faces ready to receive me as I am.
“So stop telling lies. Let us tell our neighbors the truth for we are all parts of the same body.”