Choosing Hope… In Her, Part 1
In 2008, I decided to share with a friend, events about my past that very few, if any other people knew. I expressed how, at that time, the sudden death of my younger cousin forced me to address the grief I suppressed after losing my older brother a few years before. I shared with my friend how difficult it was to accept the loss of my brother because in doing so, meant I needed to also accept that I no longer had the opportunity to tell him the things I had been so afraid to share when he urged me to. You see, my brother, unbeknownst to me, knew something was wrong… and months before his death, he pushed me, almost daily to talk to him about whatever it was that weighed on me. The last time he insisted, I nearly broke until I imagined what he would do with such information. So, instead, I promised him, “I’ll tell you on my birthday!” My birthday was three months away, but sadly, that moment would never come…
As I shared the stories I wish I shared with my brother, my friend suggested that I write about them. Mainly, because they were incredibly difficult stories to tell without being deeply affected, but also because my friend believed that those written stories would show me how much pain I’ve been able to survive. My friend was more than convinced that when I was ready, sharing my experiences would be an inspiration to others with similar encounters. So, there I was, a young woman with a traumatic past, being told to consider sharing not only the intimate details of my past but also how I managed to overcome such adversities. Overcome? I hardly felt as though I had overcome anything. My very belief in my inability to overcome such experiences is what got me to this point, but I wrote anyway. At first, because some things were just too hard to say out loud. Then, eventually writing became therapeutic.
As time went on, I was able to share some of the things I had written, and quickly learned that those who knew, could relate. I found solace in that.
What I must note is during the same year, some people believed me to be successful. I overcame tremendous odds when cards were statistically and realistically stacked against me. But, until recently, I never recognized those successes. I could never see what so many other people were acknowledging. I was in my 4th year of college but, I was nowhere close to finishing as I struggled in Nursing School. In college, I trudged through Navel ROTC where I often felt out of place, had difficulties conforming, and allowed my outspokenness precede me. I pledged Zeta Phi Beta while still a Freshmen, but still, despite engaging in the social activities and having leadership roles in the organization, I couldn’t have felt more disconnected from my sisters.
So, while to other people, it may have seemed as if I had overcome so much and had it all figured out, I felt like I was still in the midst of chaos, uncertainty, and self-doubt. I had no pride in what I had accomplished thus far because all I could really focus on was how far I had yet to go. Because of this, I most certainly felt as if I had no grounds in telling other women how to succeed. I’d eventually find the strength to share my story, but like everything, I’d learn that the confidence to do so would come in its due time. In its due season.
I’ll elaborate on how I found the strength to overcome my insecurities in Part 2 of this blog series. Also, be sure to tune in to my podcast, My LOTUS Moments where I, along with guest hosts, address issues that affect women’s ability to recognize their own promise in the midst of chaotic seasons. Until then, register with the site to stay up to date on all the everything relevant to us on this journey.
*This post was initially created as an introduction to my website www.hopeinher.com Oct, 2016
