The truth is that I received so little wisdom, compassion, and understanding. Instead, I found a lot of selfishness and immaturity. I was lucky in many ways because I did manage to find good people who I could relate to and learn from. They were few and far between and I clung on to them for dear life. 

I know why people judged me but I also know why they shouldn’t have. What I did good, I usually kept quiet. It wasn’t my style to let people know. Did I care what they thought? Of course, but it was just too tiring to play that game. I could fight back and I did, but only after thinking and waiting. A true introvert, I trusted that God or the universe would get it right somehow. 

I write because I want you to see me.  

It’s actually very draining to tell people things. It’s not so much about trust or comfort because I know who I am and what I’ve done at this point. Whatever people may think is mostly out of my control. The ones who know me, know. 

It also is not just about being known and loved. It’s also about loving someone. What I liked about my life is that I tried to love – justice, service, friends, students, etc. I really got paid so little but I joke I got paid in joy and laughter. That might be enough.  

Why the past few years have been difficult is because I was actually doing a lot of good, but either it got downplayed, ignored, or feared. The salt in the wound was the utter lack of understanding and love. What people have done is not only dishonored my story but they apply what they know to what I know, which is understandable but doesn’t work so well. It’s not just about the evil I’ve seen but also the good. I thought things out deeply and carefully. I longed for someone to understand and sit by me. 

To love and to be loved in return. Come what may.