Climbing My Mountain

A friend of mine asked me, "What is the roughest path you've had to walk on this year so far?" At first, it sounded like those drinking game questions, the ones that you don't care much about responding to correctly because nobody cares about the truth but the zeal with which you can chug several whiskey shots without flinching. However, I realized how real the situation was when I began to speak and noticed the shift in her demeanour. She immediately got rid of the jolly smile she had been wearing the entire evening, replaced it with a slight frown and fixed her eyes on mine, locking me in and holding me to the truth.

My friend's name is Rachael. I have to mention her real name because she pledged she would find me and make me pay for it if I didn't. She is sweet and feisty and always walks around with extra shopping bags because there's no way she will be "caressing capitalism on the butt" and paying for carrier bags in stores whenever she decides to go shopping. She also owns a humidor, an intricate, customized one that her first boyfriend crafted and gifted her on her 21st birthday; it looks pristine for a seven-year-old item that she claims she doesn't care about anymore, even though it's the only relic she has kept from all her previous relationships. Rachael has selfless dreams; her emotional availability is in check, too, which is why I find it easy running to her with my troubles. She dreams of building a rescue centre for stray animals, a free public library and a shelter for street families. That's a dream worth realizing if you ask me. I hope she steps up when the time comes for incorruptible people to gain political power in this country, and realize that dream on a large scale.

"You know what such questions do to me, Rachael." I tried feigning a smile because my voice was already trembling.

"Speak it and gain dominion over it." She said, pushing my extra happy hour cocktail glass towards me like the Cosmopolitan contained the shot of courage I needed at that moment.

I did not need to do much introspection because I knew the answer to the question even before she asked it but I needed to put a barrier between my heart and my head since I did not trust my emotions to let them break loose in public.

"You know we paid for these seats, right? And we are at the corner of the café. We're literally protected and undetected." That was her way of saying we were in a safe space, and I could cry if I wanted to without attracting unnecessary attention.

She knows how to flip my pages and I knew she would listen so I stuck my eyes to hers and freely let the lingering tears flow for a moment before taking a long sip of the Cosmopolitan, intentionally searching for courage and strength, this time not because of the fear of being seeing crying in public but because of internal insecurities. I knew I was about to betray my personality by speaking out; I was about to denounce myself as incapable, and it hurt.

"Before I say much, I just want to let you know that what I am about to say does not stem from self-pity or lack of self-love but comes from the point of understanding and a need for growth and improvement." My eyes were still locked to hers but the expression on her face changed to a vibrant smile. Her margaritas were beginning to work.

"Don't be so formal with me. I know you have strong enough roots with your self-love; just get on with it." Well, the three glasses of margaritas were now acting up.

"Okay. The roughest path I have been on this year is coming to the realization that I cannot afford to be an introverted single mum in her late twenties. It is something that I have always seen from the shadows, but right now, there's a bright light shining on it, and I cannot avoid facing it anymore. I feel haunted by it and I am beginning to convince myself that I need to change my personality completely to become a successful woman and an impactful mum."
Putting my feelings into words did not do well with providing me the dominion Rachael had earlier promised. It instead weighed on me and wrapped me in a wet blanket of dejection. More tears came flowing and I began to snivel uncontrollably. I felt embarrassed. 

Rachael offered me serviettes, then pushed her seat closer to mine, we sat side by side now, and I allowed her to hug me. And then everything came to a halt. I let myself feel the warmth of her embrace and followed the movement of her hand behind my back with every part of my skin that her fingers touched. I felt safe with her and I forgot about everything else that was not part of that embrace. And she let me cry it all out until I was ready to stop, just holding me and stroking her fingers on my back. 

I have had to do a lot of thinking lately. I am going through a moment of clarity in my life currently, being intentional with my dealings and so many things are beginning to be vivid. I am rooting for myself every second of the day, searching for mental toughness, hunting down success, playing Russian Roulette with first-time mistakes, and laying bricks of self-development. But one thing I am visibly not getting better at is my social connections. I have missed out on dates, cancelled important events and I still dread phone calls. I am still uncomfortable with exposing myself to people and I am beginning to picture doom. I know I need to put myself 'out there' in order to keep growing and yet solitude feels so rejuvenating.

"It sounds to me like you have already received your mountain. You're halfway through it, but you're scared about continuing all the way to the top with the same method you have used so far. It's definitely not about you not loving yourself, it's about you questioning your abilities and the direction you're taking." My emotions had, without doubt, sobered her up. "Adulthood comes with a lot of uncertainties, but you do not have to change who you are to cope; you just need to figure out how to do things differently, in a way that works for you."

"What if doing things differently means becoming someone else?" I wanted Rachael to convince me that I was right, that I needed to change myself because that was the easiest answer I had had in my mind all along. I thought it was the only way out.
"Changing yourself means living a lie. Do you want to live your whole life lying to and about yourself daily? You will be exhausted before your time, faking identities and spending all your time trying to convince the world to fix what should not be fixed."

"I'm scared, Rachael. Not just for me but for my son too. I feel the need to enlarge my circles; maybe that way, I can have an avenue to choose from and easily find a father figure for him."

"You need to relax. The fact that you are building yourself from the inside and your intentions are pure is enough, and very soon, it will reflect on the outside. The universe is rooting for you. We will find a way."

We will find a way. Rachael said, "We will find a way." I am not alone. That mountain will be climbed somehow and I am not alone. Her words, in their simplest form, convinced me that I am able. I am trusting the few people on my side who are cheering me on and most importantly, leaning on God's wisdom to erase all the doubts and grant me a new perspective. Everything will be alright.