redemption by ruby elizabeth chandler alford
my redemption
has not been
from the darkness that looks like darkness
or the shadows that appear as shadows.
i’ve gone to where
the darkness looks like light—
i’ve strived
and
pretended
and
tried
incredibly hard.
i’ve spoken in tongues,
touched my toes to the back of my head,
and gone without bread for months
in the name of being
good enough.
i worshiped at the altar of christianity,
the altar of wellness,
the altar of denying myself,
and for the sake of what?
none of it felt like God.
none of it felt like the moment I place my toes in the sand and finally feel the ocean breeze on
my face.
none of it felt like the chocolate frosted birthday cake that my sister made when I turned 32.
none of it felt like love.
now i find myself
holding hands with my partner on a walk
and it’s like i’m looking
into the face of
God herself
i find myself growling
when i get
overwhelmed
and the creature within me
purrs with delight.
i eat cake
for breakfast;
close my eyes so i can taste it
most deliciously,
and then i go about my day in peace.
i’m finally free.
and it’s not from any fix i was sold on the internet.
it’s not from shrinking or playing small.
in fact,
i’m much bigger now. so big that my restraints
couldn’t hold me anymore
and i realized it was all a trap
to begin with.
to keep me small and agreeable and out of the way.
but
true
light
takes
up
space.
true
light
floods
every
nook
and
cranny
and
there’s
nothing
to
hide
from
any
longer.
true
light
is
just
waiting
for
permission
to
shine.
beyond the
shoulds and the
woulds and the
oughtas—
to burst through
the facades
of our false gods—
and
offer
us
grace
and
space
and
a
life
worth
living
for yourself,
without depravity,
without shame,
without fear—
no longer believing that you’re hard to love —
here
now
in
all
your
fullness
where even the
darkness
belongs
and the shadows can
linger
and neither can fool me any longer
into my well-disguised self-destruction
because
i no longer hate myself
for being human
so what about
you?
will you shine with me, too?
