Once upon a time, I prayed for happiness. Despite ‘knowing’ that happiness is found only in one’s self, I still found myself searching for happiness in fickle things…in the fallible way akin to man.
Never was I prepared for the reality of life. The disillusionment it affords. The negativity it emits. The absence of selfless love that is ever so present. Oh no, definitely unprepared was I! So hungry was I to run out of my parents’ protection and become the woman I was expected to be in this big, fast and seemingly enticing world.
Become a woman that I did not know how to be but ought to be. And so I prayed. And so I cried. And so I set to work, changing aspects of me to fit what I should ideally be. And with each failure that birthed intense, jolting, aching, never-dulling and eternally persistent pain, I retreated within and hurt.
Awake I stayed when snores hummed in unison to the nightingales. Rapid and quivering went my lips in prayer to my Father above. “Save me, Lord”, I cried. Daily I pounded my chest to destroy the heart that ached but fruitless it all was.
“Purposeful is your pain”, my Father said, softly and lovingly.
“How can this be?? How can you say that when I hurt so much? You smite me and in tears I fall before you in a heap of brokenness. What purpose is there?”, I wailed.
“Trust me” was all I heard as I bowed my head to His will.
For Girls like Fifi was borne out of pain. In pain, I found joy. In tears, I saw neon signs leading me to all that I am to become. I searched within and truly found happiness that was far removed from the biceps of masculinity or the non-imposing strength of femininity.
I came to understand that I had to experience the truth of me. To feel was fine, to hurt was expected but to change or be reduced by my pain was unacceptable. And therein was found happiness.
Have you found yours?