Today, I was driving around the city, experiencing all these places I’ve been before in a new way. I realized that I’ve lived a lot of life and I’ve had a lot of experiences, many left me jaded but right now I’m just feeling grateful. I realize that despite it all, I’m still here.
Certain places bring up unpleasant memories, but today, I saw them all differently….
I drove past the the intersection where I was parked the day of the election. I had just cast my vote for the first time for a Black man to become the president of the United States. I picked my then husband up from work, and on our way home he saw a young man he used to mentor. And, by his request, I pulled over so that he could speak to him.
He was always empowering young men. (Our mutual love for inner city youth was one of the reasons I easily fell for him.) I wasn’t at all surprised that young man was in a gang. But I found out that night that he was in the middle of a gang war. And we were in the middle of the crossfire… literally.
I heard two pops, from my left, in the distance. Then, I felt cold glass pouring down my back. The bullet went through the window behind me, just missing the back of my head by two inches before it lodged in the front passenger side door frame. That one bullet would have taken all three of us out. I didn’t realize I was pregnant at the time.
It’s amazing how choices and company can make all the difference in your life. I nearly died over a habit I didn’t even have. I’ve told this story many times, but I what I didn’t tell is that we would’ve pulled off if he didn’t pause to buy a “bag” off the same guy he just mentored….
I look back on that moment and so many others and realize how I used to “play dumb.” I used to believe what people told me and ignore their behavior. I let people sell me on who they were, rather than use my observation skills to see for myself. “He’s a minister.” “He’s a good guy.” I ignored my gut instincts. I ignored what didn’t feel right. I let things go that I was not okay with. I put up with the unthinkable on numerous occasions in the name of love. I ignored every sign and situation that showed me we were not in alignment, and I nearly lost my life in the process.
Back then, I believed I was weak and looking for a savior. I felt I needed people and couldn’t live without them. I would endure the worst of the worst, rather than be called disloyal or unkind, or a bad friend, girlfriend, or wife. I never thought about if people were being good to me. I never considered if they were worthy of me. I was always trying to prove myself worthy and deserving, no matter what the cost…
But that was then. This is now. Before today, I would look back at that moment and feel bad for being naive, and insecure, or think, “I was so stupid,” and “why would God let me go through that. I’m such a good person.” But now, I look back on that and think, “Damn. I’m still here.” I think about all I’ve survived and I feel amazed….
When I pulled up to the house this evening, the weather was so mild and nice that I decided to wash my car, since I have all the stuff to do it in my trunk. As I made soapy circles on the hood and headlights, I thought about all my car has been to me.
I used to complain about her all the time because I’ve had to repair sooo much on that car. (And I’ve got another repair pending.) So many days of going to my dad and telling him something else was wrong and asking if he could get it fixed for me. I couldn’t afford the repairs myself. I could barely keep gas in it. And over the years, my thoughts were always steeped in frustration. I was always angry that I wasn’t making enough to buy a new car. I was watching everybody get new cars, while I am driving the same car (technically my dad’s spare car) that I used when I moved back in with my parents when my teen daughter was a toddler.
But instead of thinking about that stuff, as I lovingly washed the salt and road dust from my car, I just felt so much gratitude. I thought of how she has been my shelter. When I put my daughter in that expensive ass private school on the other side of town. I couldn’t always afford gas to get her there, go home, and return to pick her up. So MANY days, I spent the whole day in my car. I would sleep in the Target parking garage, or I’d park by the river. I’ve damn near frozen sitting in my car for 8 plus hours waiting for her to get out of school (because I couldn’t keep the car running or I wouldn’t have enough gas to get us home). But this car was there for me.
I may not be where I want to be. And I’m definitely not yet bringing in enough to be fully independent. But I’m not where I was. And today I felt so much gratitude for that. I am so grateful because what I lived through did not take me out.
I’m still here.
I could share so many more stories (and I probably will on future podcasts, lol), but the point of it all is that I’m grateful to be in a place, now, where I can see the option to choose to look at myself as a victim or a survivor. I am in a place now—and I mean mentally, not physically—where I am able to process that it’s a choice. I get to choose to shift my perspective. AND I don’t have to feel bad about all the years it took me to get to a place where I can see that as a choice.
I felt like a victim until I reached a point where I could see myself another way. I believe I’ve healed so much that I can now see myself differently. I had to go through all these messy moments and steps to get to a place where I could look back on myself and see that I’m one hell of a woman. I’ve been through hell and back so many times. And I’m still here.
For most of my life, I looked at my painful moments and concluded that “maybe I don’t get to live the good life.” And I’m not talking about a long time ago. I just got cussed out by my dear friend for saying that sh*t last week! I was convinced that for some reason I was chosen to just be here for everyone else—to help others achieve their dreams, to inspire others to go after their goals, to witness good happening to others, but I was nearly convinced that it doesn’t get to happen to me. (I say “nearly” because even in my darkest moments, there’s a part of me, a whisper, a voice or something that won’t let me give up, that keeps me holding out hope that it gets to happen EVEN for me….
For most of my life, I’ve believed that Murphy’s Law was more like Marlene’s Law—that if something could go wrong, it would. I believed that if I had a good day, that it would end with something bad. I believed that if something good happened to me, or if I received something great, it would break, be lost, or be taken away soon after.
I’ve lived my life through this pessimistic lens, despite being so optimistic for everyone else. My life experiences convinced me that I was the “butt of God’s joke.” I believe that although I want more for myself that maybe it just doesn’t get to happen that way for me—that maybe I came here to experience heartache, disappointment, and struggle.
But today, as I looked at my life through different eyes, as I saw all I’ve been through, I couldn’t help but be amazed. I said to myself, “I’m so proud of you.” What an amazing human I must be that I’ve lived through so much, witnessed too much, experienced so much, and processed so much (through my own experiences as well as by being an empath)… and I’m still here.
I can pick multiple stories, throughout my life, that just one of those would be enough to take someone out, to make them give up, to ensure that they became a supervillain. And I’ve chosen to use my stories for good. I’ve chosen to work through the pain and make sense of it all. I’ve chosen to share my lessons, practices, and insights. I’ve chosen not to become like those who’ve hurt me.
And maybe you can relate. Maybe your life experiences have caused you to feel like you have a target on your back. Maybe life has been so hard that it has worn you down, and depression is more common for you than being joyful and at peace. I want you to know that you’re not alone in that. I can relate to that so deeply. AND we’re still here.
What would have certainly taken others out, is just something we’ve packed away in our mental storage. And we kept going. And as much as storing our pain is not a flex, it does speak volumes about us. I am an advocate for healing, and therapy, an doing what it takes to release the pain. AND I know from all I’ve been through (some of which I have yet to tell a therapist) I ain’t no punk. Look at all I’ve survived.
A lot of people don’t want to be called strong, because it overlooks their humanness. That humanity that we need people to see and recognize… That need for others to know that just because we are resilient, and because we haven’t crumbled, doesn’t mean life hasn’t been so heavy. And I get that. And I choose to believe I can be strong AND want to be seen as human. For me both are true.
I’m strong as f*ck. And if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t still be here. I’ve been through a lot, and honestly giving up was an option more times than I can count, but I didn’t. I’m still here.
And maybe for you the phrase “everything happens for a reason” is the most infuriating and insensitive statement. For me, it is how I’ve survived.
I chose many years ago to believe a statement that came to me when I was at my lowest point. I was sleeping on the floor in an empty apartment when I was 6 months pregnant. All I had were my clothes, my computer, and my puppy (Sorry. I’m not counting my ex. He was there, too, but that’s a story for another time). And one day as I sat on the living room floor, working on my first children’s book, “The Lonely Prince,” these words came to me “everything has purpose.”
Those words have been my lifeline.
From sleeping on that floor, to sleeping in my car, to eating at soup kitchen, to abandoning my family for love, to having that love not return home leaving me as a broke, jobless single parent, to having to grovel and ask to move back in with my parent who I was barely speaking to, to…. the story goes on and on…. Through all those moments, the words “everything has purpose” have kept me.
Holding on to the belief that even though I may not understand it now, whatever I’m going through is not for no reason (yes, enjoy that grammar)…. That thought is what kept me… (sh*t is keeping me.) And now, the work I do, sharing these stories and the lessons I learned along the way, I see it all has purpose. It didn’t make sense when I was in it. But now that I’m on the other side, I have so many examples that show me it all had purpose. I can relate to so many people, and reach so many people. My stories have allowed me to inspire, uplift, support, encourage, and empower so many people… all around the world. For me, it all has purpose.
This phrase might not be your lifeline, but that belief has been mine. So much of what I’ve been through, I thought was the whole story. So much of what I’ve accomplished, I thought was going to be the whole story. But now I realize that all of this sh*t has just been pieces of a greater puzzle. The people I’ve met, the experiences, the things I’ve done, and even the order, it’s all been part of something bigger than I could ever process while in the middle of those moments.
Looking back, I now see that my life is not just a timeline of bullsh*t. That these moments are individual splashes of paint on the canvas. As I step back and look at the totality of my life, I realize that these messy experiences have all been parts of a grand masterpiece. And I’m still in it. My life is still being painted, because I’m still here.
And so is yours….
I hope these words bring you comfort.
Blessings,
Marlene Dillon Empowerment Specialist
MDillon Designs & Publishing 