#MindFartMondays 1: A few wrongs can make a right.

So it’s been just over a couple of months since Fellowship has ended, and yet, I still find myself being inspired by the people I’ve met there on a daily basis.  Since then, #WordVomitWednesdays have become a thing with some of the Fellows, and I’ve never really looked forward to reading peoples’ blogs so much until now.  With that being said, I’ve decided to start making it a weekly goal to spill out my thoughts every Monday as well.  Vomits and farts are kinda close in similarity, right?  Right.  Moving on.

I’ll be honest.  My blog is probably going to start off as what I like to call “organized chaos.”  Kind of like my room at the moment.  And my classroom.  And my life.  But I think that’s what makes this exciting for me.  As a screenwriter, it’s become so much easier for me to write about the problems and trials of a fictional character, rather than face the reality of my own internal struggles.  As of today, I want to challenge myself to give my mess of thoughts an outlet for me to look back on and learn from.  And hopefully they make an interesting read along the way.

“This is hopeless.  Maybe I can sleep it off and deal with it in the morning.” 

Whenever I come across failure and misfortune, that’s probably the first thought that comes to mind.  I have a terrible issue with confrontation, both with people, and with myself, and at the back of my mind, I’m always desperately looking for ways to avoid it at all costs.  It all comes around to two of my biggest fears; (1) disappointing the people who are counting on me, and (2) being thought of as weak, and unable to handle my own life.

I have been blessed with some of the most supportive family and friends.  But at a young age, I began to groom myself with this belief that if I showed any of my weaknesses to anyone, that somehow made me less of a person.  So, whenever I found myself in trouble, I internalized it.  I made it out to be like I was some brave warrior who could handle anything and everything to the public eye.  And whenever I was alone, I would take that as my time of release to cry, and reason with myself that I was doing the right thing.  A good thing.  No one would ever need to know, and no one would ever have to deal with it but me.

However, this cycle of emotional self-harm never helps anyone in the slightest.  I began to bury myself under this private depression for so long, and years later, I found that I had lost my faith in God because of it.  Because I had kept things secret all those years, all I could view the damage as was God tossing another brick at me while I was already down on the ground.

Fast forward to my freshmen year of college.  I’m an absolute mess after another sleepless night, and my arm is throbbing in pain for some unknown reason.  I’d just found out I’d failed a midterm the previous day, and at this point, all I wanted to do was go home.  I got out of the car, and immediately got a text from an angry friend.  “You better not flake this time, you never go out with me anymore. It’s really annoying that I’m the only one trying.”  Normally, that wouldn’t phase me as much as it was about to.  But at that moment, I began to cry uncontrollably.  I tried my best to hide my face away and run to the nearest bathroom, and immediately, I was stopped in my path by a girl I had never met before.

“Are you okay?” she asked.  I looked up and saw this petite little Asian girl holding a bunch of books in her arms looking at me with a worried expression.  Without really thinking, I responded, “I’m sorry.  I’m just…I’m feeling really lost right now.”  I immediately regretted my word choice and mentally slapped myself for being such an idiot.

But to my surprise, she didn’t look at me weirdly at all, or even question my choice of words.  Instead, she followed up by saying with a smile, God will help you find your way, I’m sure of it.  It’s okay to feel lost.  Even when things are going wrong, just know you’re on the right path.”  I hadn’t expected such a kind response, and I was stunned.  Awkwardly, I thanked her as genuinely as I could and introduced myself.  Likewise, she did the same.  “I’m Minji.  Do you want to meet up and talk about things some time? I do bible studies every week if you want to join me.”   I realized then that one of the books in her arms was a Bible- something I hadn’t really touched or thought about since high school.  And usually, I would say no to talking about religion over lunch with someone who was literally a complete stranger to me.  But something in me felt so touched that I agreed and exchanged numbers with her.  And within a few weeks, I found myself slowly letting in a light that had been gone for quite some time in my life.

Hope can find you in the times, people, and places where you least expect it.   For me, it was in a stranger- the first person I had finally allowed to view me at my weakest, most vulnerable state after so long.  Often, I think we forget that it’s okay to not be able to handle things alone.  We close ourselves off to the aid of those around us, and by doing so, we fail to see God through them, trying to give us a helping hand.  But now, I can say that I am finally beginning to rediscover Him as I let my true self free.  I know I still have a long ways to go, unraveling the knots of my history and coming to terms with the fact that I’m a complete mess.  But as some amazing people have been telling me, “Yeah, you may be a mess.  But, really, we’re all a mess…and that’s okay.”  I’m going to be okay.

(P.S.  I also realize it’s technically Tuesday now as I finish this.  But let’s just call this Monday night, okay?  I’m still a mess.)

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