Fight or Flight: Run

Three decades of habits are hard to break.

OK, maybe two decades. Maybe I've really only been facing crisis since I was 12. Except no, that's not right. Let's say 25 years. Let's say this all started when I was 7. That feels about right. Second grade and my first bully. My first "We all hate you."

My first desire to run.

My mom found me the day the girls in my second-grade class turned against me. I was hiding inside a tire. It was recess and I wanted desperately to not be found by any of the girls who, just hours before, had been my friends. And then I did something. Something they didn't like. The leader declared my fate as Undesirable. And I ran. Nothing changed inside that tire, of course. It still hurt. I was still scared.

25 years later. Here I am. I'm still hurting. I'm still scared.


It's hard, after a while, to face down Who You Are and Who They Say You Are and not feel still that you're Undesirable. "It's not personal." "It's not about personality." Bull shit.

I've spent 25 years of my life facing down people who said I wasn't good enough. Pretty enough. Thin enough. Smart enough. Talented enough. Nice enough. I wish I could remember my life more before 7. I wish I could remember more what it was like to be enough.

Sometimes I am. For brief periods. Short threads of "Wow, you're pretty good at this." or "You're so talented." or "We all really like you." And then the illusion is shattered. It always is. It doesn't take long before there is a new leader and I don't measure up.

And I want to run.

Running when you live in a world full of bullies and a home with instability is safe. Running means you are safe. Hiding means they won't find you.

Until they do.

I've spent a lot of time in the last few months crying. It seems I can't actually be alone for long before it wells up, spills out. A wave of despair that washes over me until I feel like I can't breath. I can't think. My thoughts are a spiral of insecurity and pain.

You aren't enough. You aren't enough. It's not enough to be good. You'll never be liked. You'll never fit in. You'll never be who They say you should be.

You'll never make it.

I'm trying to drown it out. I'm trying to lean in to new friends. To God. To scripture. I'm trying to find the truths in my life, to find what is in my control. To fix what I can. To adjust where I need to. To mold. To adapt.

A 25 year battle to fit in and be who They want me to be.

I want to run. I want to escape this and try again. Start new somewhere else. I want to admit the mistake we've made here, and pull up roots.

But I'm tired of running. I no longer want new and adventure. I want safe and familiar. I want comfort and family and proximity. I want the strength to fight for my place and my space to be myself.

God, give me the strength to fight.