In His Likeness w/ AntTBri

I got my reasons for thinking, feeling, and doing what I do…being how I am. I wouldn’t expect you to be able to relate or speak to my internal torment…you’ve never been nor will you ever know my version of woman and I definitely don’t want nothing to do with yours. Vulnerability is weakness, doing good without fear of mistreatment isn’t possible, having a calm and gentle spirit is an act, and peace that surpasses my understanding is what the Sunshine Suzie’s chant. Debbie Downers like myself live in the real world…we see life and love for what it is through competitive, cynical, and condemning eyes. Call me bitter, brash, brazen, and belligerent. I’ve been called worst. It’s funny how all christian counsel feels like a hurl of accusations, assumptions, assaults to the beaten, battered, bruised and broken-hearted when we’re doing the best we can with what we’ve been dealt. I can’t believe, comprehend, or trust TRUTH/FREEDOM beyond my truth?   Stop talking to me about me…it’s not my choice…you think I would have chosen a mother wrapped up in her own needs, a sister competing with me for the attention, a daughter who is everything I wish I was, a controlling father, a clueless brother, and a conflicted son who doesn’t even appreciate my sacrifice?

They didn’t leave, reject, or abandon you when you needed them most. They didn’t fail to teach you or mistreat you on occasion. Many were your smiles few were your tears unjustifiable, unmerited, and undeserving. You got the better of the deal, people like you, you have friends, family the propensity to live and love. You have gifts, talents, advantages I wish I could have. If only they would have, if only I could have, it should have been differently. I love you but I hate you because of what I see when I look at you: your version of woman reinforces the negativity I see and think about me. If only I could be Suzie Sunshine instead of Debbie Downer believing in God, myself, and allowing His Word to heal my heart, transform my mind.  Get away from me you constant reminder of optimism, opportunity, and occasion to live and love better, be better. I detest your energy, discourage your effort, and detract from the possibility of your effectiveness in winning me. Your speaking life…through sharing the (WORD): challenges my wrong thinking about God, myself, and others and makes me confront, challenge, and attempt to change what is my norm, my form in dealing with life and love on my terms. You acquire what I struggle to obtain effortlessly…it’s mine, it belongs to me…give it back, says Debbie Downer the daughter, woman, mother, sister and friend through her actions, articulations, and artistic schematics of her inner child. She mimics, she mocks, and masquerades maturity as a defense knowing full well it is not her reality.

Throw me a pity party she says. See me as a victim she asserts… they left me, they didn’t do or give me the love and life that was due me. Feel and pacify my pain and don’t attempt to help me manage it and don’t offer me hope that requires that I do the work of healing. I can not accept it, I will not change…this me works…I don’t even know how to believe let alone walk out faith. Suzie Sunshine be my version of  friend; the type that yields right to wrong, allows me to act out and act up without conversation or consequence to my actions. Look away, pretend not to see that I forfeit my strength to a false sense of security; that I inflict harsh judgments and standards that I myself don’t maintain. Let me say it like I feel it because I got a right to be me and I refuse to change, to comply to the standard of my said conviction. God will forgive my transgression, my aggression. He knows me, he will adapt to my inconsistency. He doesn’t expect me to be proactive, to participate in my deliverance or development. Sacrifice is not apart of Salvation’s process, I heard somewhere sanctification is not the work of life but it is the process of interconnecting the soul and spirit through the mind of a risen Savior. I don’t have to think or be like Christ…choose or do anything different because all I’m going to receive will come to me through osmosis, by listening, memorizing and even quoting scriptures. What are you talking about Suzie Sunshine? God this, God that…as if he is the cure-all for all that hurts. Do you really believe He is the balm that heals…the salve that soothes…that there was is purpose in my pain? You’re crazy God wouldn’t want me to suffer, He wouldn’t do this to me. I’ve hurt enough and I’m not willing to hurt no more…whatever…talk to the hand… I’m not wrong, and if I am so what I know and God knows, as well as you my reasons for being the way I am. What he or she didn’t do, didn’t provide, give me, be for me is my chosen justification.  I don’t need nor do I want to appropriate the significance of His blood shed for me. I don’t have to embody or become one with the truth of its exposition. He may have done it for you, but for me he responds differently. It does not work like that for me, with him and I’m not tripping. Jesus paying the penalty for all offense, dying for me is not vindication enough. I need them to pay, for them to know I ain’t never going to be talked down to, ignored, overlooked, by passed ever again. I’m going to insist, make sure, and see to it that my needs, feelings, and desires get met, addressed, and responded too. Yeah I love Jesus but I love me too…I can’t trust Him to be my defense he didn’t protect me before. Yeah I know He loves me but in all honesty His love of me, for me is not enough to make me take down or change my mind. I just can’t do it…I’m not even willing to consider or see life and love like that. There you again talking about me owning my choice,

How dare you judge me; call me to an account for my exhibited actions? Why do you keep reaching or asking for the authentic version of me? Why wont you settle for and believe this misrepresentation of me? You want me to become the best version of me  don’t you? What a preposterous request to expect of me. You want me to channel my energy into positivity and forgo my right to the comfort of negativity. You want me to exert effort into the unknown, the unfathomable, the unrecognizable. What gull to push, promote, and prompt the elevation of my thinking, my practice. As if living from a new platform, an enlightened perception would change my position, assist my progression, and dissolve my digression, deception. I can not live differently in light of a love I can not perceive let alone receive. Foreign foolishness and folly you’re trying to give me; when I know (feel) better when I’m domineering, defensive, destructive and disgruntled. How inconceivable the things that you speak. You keep talking to me about my future possibility. What are you talking about? All that is, is what I see. It is what it is. I can accept that, I have accepted that; there is no future hope for me. So leave me alone, let me be stuck, stagnated, and stunted in my growth. I’m ok, I’m alright. I know how to do this…I got this. Stop it, quit trying to change the way I see me. Don’t celebrate what I can be when I’m determined to stay settled in what is. I am a child masquerading adult not willing to be found out; playing hide and seek in my relationships, my responsibilities, and my rationale but I don’t’ fault me.

I am a good woman, a good person, neither one of us will admit the truth: that I am woman like. You think I’m just like you because I made an allegiance with your confessed fears, took solace in your weakness, and I watched, learned and can now predict your need of me. Yeah that was intentional, my schematic, it is my skill set. You forgot but let me gently, comfortably remind you that I’m a child clothed in adulthood. I’m proficient at pretending to be without actually being or becoming. I’ve mastered deflection and with a vengeance I’m exacting my furry on any and all that will listen or pay attention to me. Childish, infantile even, immature emotionally and an imposter masquerading like a fully developed woman. You can not easily detect my movements, nor determine my mobility because I’m a chameleon I look like you; the you I secretly admire. I patterned my movement after yours, adapted my verbiage to the sound of your wisdom. I’ve even mastered your presentation of what is expected and accepted as holistic, holy, and honorable to the eyes of others. I took on a false identity and became the person I felt would best masquerade my true identity (a woman like version of you). I’m just as saved, sanctified, just as spiritual and just as special as you. The same type of women, version of goodness, and truth shared by all flawed humanity so I don’t have to grow, develop, or become more. We will never admit that I am simply woman like because you don’t have the heart to belittle me and I don’t have the heart to become the authentic me. We both have privately accepted that my public assertion is my choice to be woman like even though God purposed, predestined, and passionately desires that I live and love in His likeness through the expression and experience of WOMAN.