Buried
under a Mountain of Self (Me)
February
1, 2016
By:
Gina Yoryet Román
And it is
ready to crumple before my eyes
They
say that every woman is born with it, but I wasn’t, or I neglected my
nature all along. During my adolescence this thought never came to me because I
was unbeknownst to what it fully entailed. I may not have known completely, but
I was certain that deep down I didn’t desire it because of my rough upbringing.
In my twenties, I got a somewhat fuller scope through my mother, friends, sisters,
co-workers and acquaintances and I still didn’t aspire for it. In my early
thirties and now that I am scratching f-o-r-t-y, OMG! Yes! I am still debating
it.
Until
exactly two weeks ago I was still rowing the wrong direction harder and harder
each day to prevent it any cost. But on Tuesday January 26th, my
suspicions were confirmed. I was experiencing a bit of insomnia, some swelling
and cramps, but I wanted to make myself believe that it couldn’t be possible.
But deep down I knew it had happened.
My
first reaction was to whatsap a close friend of mine and confide my concern to
her. I want to say that I was caught amidst frenzy and joy, but I wasn’t and
that doesn’t make me feel very proud. But I was and I still am confined in the
midst of panic, fear, worry, anxiety, and overall disgust with my body. I am
very restricted physically. On top of my chronic knee injury, this has arised.
I am in physical gridlock!
For
whatever the Purpose Driven Life means, I don’t want to deny myself the
opportunity and blessing to procreate, witness the beginning of a new promise
and be an accomplice of the gift of metamorphosis through my temple. I want to
live a life without regrets.
Towards
the end of the week it sank in more and I accepted it. I am still terrified,
daunted, reluctant in a way, and in a way hopeful, and aghast. Part of it is
because I have never allowed myself to be completely happy. Why should I allow
myself to unveil my real self? As of three days ago, I’ve been more at ease,
lying awake at moments during the night, asking myself if I will be a good role
model. I feel incapable of caring for me, and much less of another human being.
I
won’t know how to react, I won’t know what to do.
I
won’t know who to reach out to. For all I know, my woman instincts may kick in
and things will work out, they always do. The more I think, the more I give
fear room to reside in my mind, heart and soul. The more I am permissive of
unease, the more icebound I become. The more I welcome doubt, the more I reject
my nature. The more I deny myself to be happy, the more I deny my purpose, my
mission, my vision, my dreams.
It
all entails to being buried under a mountain of “Self,” “Me,” All my life
everyone else has done everything for me. I am the first, last, and most
important individual on my list. Not anymore, from the moment I found out till
the end of my journey, my circumstances will be different.
Conceivably,
I am frightened to give myself up. I want to go against my nature but I am
grateful every day for this gift, this blessing, this joy. Today I will stop yearning for the young single woman I once was.
Now I can clearly visualize that no matter how much I tried to bypass who I really
was for a long period of time, the real me re-emerged. I now realize that one
cannot run from oneself because one day, the real one will be disclosed.
And so my real self has disclosed,
even if it means that I have to give up the mountain of “Self” to care for
someone else.
All I can say is, "Why me, why here, why now?
Every day I am grateful to God and life and instead of asking for my will, I ask for his will
and for me to be humble and accept, for acceptance will
set me free.
