Katharine at Just a Thought asked me to write a guest post, filling in this sentence:
When I live loved, I am ________________.
This is how I filled in the blank:
When I live loved, I am free.
|photo source via pinterest|
But often, I am not free. It isn’t the fault of those who love me. It’s the fault of these scales that continuously rattle around in my brain, weighing motives, weighing worthy, weighing enough, weighing me down in these chains.
I don’t trust well and I don’t want to owe anybody anything. I’d rather stock favors than use them. I’d rather people need me than me need anyone. But, I’m growing tired of the constant weigh-ins. I’m through with the complicated spreadsheets that troll my brain.
Did I watch her kids for her after she watched mine?
Did I do enough work to merit reading my book?
Did I ask her enough questions or do I need to probe more before I tell her about me?
If I do this, will he love me in this way?
The truth is, I’ve come to realize that I wrestle with a very basic question: What does it look like to be loved? What does it feel like to be free?
To continue reading my painfully honest thoughts, please click here.
Linking this post with Painting Prose at Journey to Epiphany.