I am Moving.

I tried so hard. Really, I did. I was in it with my whole heart.

I reserved at least thirty minutes to do my hair. I had slip extenders in multiple colors. I followed the “apostolic influencers” on social media and read all the holiness posts. I worshiped loudly in altars, taught Sunday school, pulled immodest girls aside and did my best to follow every standard no matter what questions that I had.

I did my best. I gave it my all. I was in it for the long haul.

The church, the “apostolic way”, the modest clothes and fancy hair, the exuberant worship and emotional atmosphere it was my everything… it was who I was. I was defined by it all. This way was my identity.

I had my moments along the way, I had a never ending slew of questions and “whys''. My questions always seemed to go unanswered, but I chose to trust and believe in the leadership around me. I chose to put “my faith into action” and fulfill my role. I did as I was told.

I learned to be obedient. I learned to tuck the questions inside and “act in faith” not in understanding. I thought that always doing what I was told was the right thing to do. I believed that I was being obedient to God and His word and I believed that obedience would secure my salvation.

I won’t pretend that I was perfect. I made out with boys and let my mind race with thoughts and ideas. I sat and silently judged everyone I met. I believed I was superior to a lot of other people. I felt I was deserving of a lot of things because of the lifestyle I was living. I did things I knew were wrong when I was behind closed doors.

I was a different person when no one could see me. I lived in quiet, hidden sin.

But, it was okay because no one knew and no one could see who I was on the inside.

I still had my dress on. I still had my name, my church pedigree, my modest appearance, my uncut hair, my ‘anointed’ skills, and my holy reputation.

I could still act and look “the part” no matter how I felt on the inside.

Occasionally a tinge of guilt over my secret thoughts or actions would creep into my mind. Sometimes I would allow my heart and mind to wander and ask the questions that I kept hidden deep inside. I struggled to comprehend why certain things were okay, but others were not. Why did the rules seem to keep changing every new year, or at every new church?

I did not understand why there were only holiness rules/dress codes for women and not for men. I could not understand why we would say things like “I'd rather be safe than sorry”, and say those things proudly. It baffled me that faith was supposed to be so blind. I did not want to ever play safe. I wanted to know and understand beyond the shadow of a doubt.

I was told I did not need to know or understand every little detail, but deep in my heart I never felt satisfied without knowing the whys. I wanted to know why. I wanted to understand the details. I wanted to be able to defend my truth and lifestyle. (I wanted to defend my identity.)

I wondered why it seemed so very hard to earn salvation and obey all of God’s rules. I could not comprehend why the instructions in the Bible were so very clear on some things and twisted between scriptures on others.

But, I played my part.

I dressed up and showed up. I followed the rules. I tried my best to silence the voice inside my head. I accepted the answers and orders I was given and continued to identify with the only lifestyle I had ever known.

I tried so hard.

Yet, somehow, I ended up here. I ended up sitting here on my kitchen floor in the fetal position unsure of who I was, where I was going, what I believed, and who I could trust.

Everything that I had once held close evaporated away in a matter of months. It was like I had slipped and fallen off of the top of a mountain and crashed to the ground. All of the things that made up my identity were forced out of me and pushed to the ground.

All I had done to get here was not accept a person’s word or thought as an answer to a question I had. All I had done was genuinely pursue a biblical answer that I could understand and agree whole-heartedly with. For the first time, I had refused to live it because I was told to believe it. I had begun passionately pursuing a tangible, understandable answer. I had chosen to look and learn for myself and it had led me down a very slippery slope…

Answering one question just brought up more questions.

Digging into scripture for understanding made me grow hungry and passionate for more knowledge and more comprehension. I longed to know more. I became hungry.

Suddenly, all of those repressed questions from the years gone by came flooding back. Suddenly, all of my own actions and secret sins were brought to light and examined, not by others, by myself. Suddenly, the inside of my heart and mind carried more importance than my appearance. Now I wanted to ask all the questions and find all of the answers. I wanted to really, truly understand. I wanted to believe. I wanted to grow. I wanted Jesus.

I did not just want a way out. I wanted to know Him and be like Him.

So I began searching, desperately searching. The more I searched for my own answers the more I learned, and the more I learned the more lost I felt. I began to spiral. I began to fall.

Now I am here, I’m sitting on the floor, my back against the wall, my legs pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them holding them tightly in place. My head is down, buried in my knees. When I bring my head up and look around it feels like I am surrounded by stacks of boxes, furniture, objects and clutter surrounding every surface and all of it feels overwhelming.

My heart is sad and heavy. My heart is breaking.

It feels like it is moving day and everything that has ever been a part of my life or my identity is shoved into a box. The objects stacking up and shoved together are overwhelming me and bearing down on me. The weight of the overwhelming amount of work waiting for me makes me feel like I am being buried alive.

It feels like I am moving. It feels so heavy and overwhelming.

No, I’m not physically moving as I write this. While my home is cluttered and messy it is not currently in a state of overwhelming chaos, boxes, or objects… it’s not my home and house that I am talking about moving out of. It’s my heart. It’s my life.

I find myself sitting alone on the floor blankly staring at the familiar things in my life and trying to decide if I am going to hold onto them or not. All of these beliefs and things that created my identity and defined me as a person now all feel wrong to continue identifying with.

Am I going to throw this practice of dressing in only skirts into the trash? Or will I pack it up and take it with me as I continue my life? Am I going to carry this belief against jewelry with me or leave it behind? Just what is it that I now believe? What features of my identify are actually a part of me and what I believe now?

My life feels like an overwhelmingly moving day…

What exactly is it I now believe?

What do I want to keep with me in my life?

Where do I start to process all of this stuff?

The entirety of the person I was has been questioned. My whole identity has been dismantled. When I look back at her now, she feels like a stranger. My heart is broken because I never intended to stop being her. I never wanted to change her. I never wanted to lose her.

I never planned on losing ‘her’ as my identity.

I tried, I tried so hard to be her. I tried to be the good girl and follow all of the rules for so long. I gave her all of my effort and all of my passion. Now I feel like I am packing up that person and throwing her into a cardboard box. Packing her up feels so painful.

I tried to continue to be her even with my new thoughts, beliefs, and understanding. I tried, but it is so much harder to play dress up now. I cannot play pretend like I once did. I cannot live a lie. I cannot be her.

I gave my all to these ideas and these practices. This was my entire identity. I cannot pack my entire personhood and life away in a cardboard box… Can I?

I don’t know who I am becoming, but I know that I am not the same girl anymore. I am still trying, I am still giving it my all. But, I cannot continue trying to be 'her' anymore.

My heart has changed. I don’t spend hours in the mirror getting ready anymore. I spend hours in the Bible instead. I don’t follow the influencers anymore (I am good friends with the unfollow button now). I find myself sitting silently and instead of judging others I find my heart breaking for them and longing to be able to sit and learn about them. I find myself vocally asking a lot more questions and proudly searching for my own answers. I find my voice speaking up and speaking out a lot more now.

I'm becoming proud of that new, loud voice.

I have changed. All of me has changed.

I have lost the identity that I once held so close.

My identity is not found in myself anymore. It’s His now.

So today, on this strange “moving day” I find myself saying goodbye to the person I once was, and the person that tried so very hard to please others and earn her place. I’ll send her off with a hug (I'm a hugger, some things never change) and tears in my eyes because in truth, I'll miss a lot of things about her.

I’ll miss her, a lot of other people will too. But, I am not her anymore. I’m moving on.

It is overwhelming. It is sad. It is so hard. But it is time.

My heart is broken. But, I'm moving on with that broken heart.