Who understands me?
All of the many human beings I have known or met all have different relationships with me. I wear many hats… daughter, mother, sister, wife/separated spouse/ex (depending), varying level friend (depending upon the person’s position and history with me), co-worker/consultant/owner/writer/minister/counselor (depending), friendly face/someone they have to deal with, or complete stranger. All of these relationships are true. None of these relationships are the real me, nor the whole me, so they are equally untrue.
Who understands all of me, at my core being, the eternal and deep well within me, which once named cannot ever be the truth, simply because it was named?
There are a few, a select handful of people (you know who you are) who have known my heart, my mind, my life, my wishes and desires, my very thoughts.
Husbands/lovers/boyfriends over my lifetime have known parts of all of this… one never knew… one knew a little… one knew most but believed that “the one who loved the least was the one who was in control”… and one knew me as well as my best friends, and became one of my best friends in the world.
Who understands that when one finally finds such a person that it is hell to watch their professional name defaced, their reputation and income demolished, their very soul tarnished with false accusations by the corruption within those who perpetrate it, which they call glorious from their own perspective?
Those who are hated are often the least understood. My own personality is shared by 1% of the population. 99% do not understand me, and some of the other 1% may also not due to other cultural and environmental factors out of my control. My whole life I have striven to be understood, when finally I realized it is wholly impossible. I am hated because I am not known. I have been hated most by the people who did not even know me. Is not victimization a choice? Is it not a choice to care what people think? Especially when they do not know what they think they know?
Who understands what it is like to have these similar views and actions of hatred and disgust imposed upon oneself by others, and to watch as they victimize the victims, and bring great emotional harm to the children in the worst way, while claiming they are saving them? What hypocrisy. What self-deceit. What relativistic truths, which seem like opposites… yet these are all truths in and of themselves, even if apparently contrary. Whose truth is better than another? They are equal, even if not the same. Labels are man-made concepts. We are all labeled as this or that. They are truth to some, and falsehoods at the same time, because they have a partial view, a limited bias, a narrow mindset.
Who understands this?
Are we not all equally capable of the gravest errors, and the most awesome blessings?
Who understands that I am not the person that many think I am? Who knows the real me? Who sees my soul bleed for truth, and who hears my pain? Who feels the ragged blade that ripped through my heart and stabbed me in the back? Who senses the spirit of who I really am rather than the one they choose to see through their misjudgments? Who tastes the bitter drops of betrayal that they shoved into my mouth? Who smells the putrid agony of death that was laid to rot within my very soul?
Who understands that I am not the person that many think I am? Who knows the real me? Who sees my soul as the spring flower that blooms within me, and who hears my lips whisper gratitude to the trees and sky and water and powers that be? Who feels the peace that emanates from my innermost being that makes me smile when no one is looking? Who senses the spirit of who I really am in totality or in part? Who tastes the glory that shall one day be mine? Who smells the sweet smell of justice as the truth is told to the masses?
That is all that matters.