War Cry

Beginning of 2020

As I lie on the cold cement floor of a chapel, I stare intently at the ceiling as if it were the vast night sky, and I had just located a planet in another galaxy. I have finally come to a decision.

"Ok, this is it. It's now or never..."

I take a deep breath as if it were the last thing you grab before you leave the house for your yearly, dreadful trip to see your relatives from the wrong side of the family. I sit up, sling my black hood over my head, channeling the fearless Annabelle that even I was too scared to get to know, and I take my first step. When my foot hit the floor, I instantly understood how it felt to be the first man to walk on the moon. Except his was one large leap for mankind, and mine is a plunge to the bottom of a six-foot hole. I was quickly snapped out of my moonwalk when the chapel doors opened with such force. I flinched scared they were about to fly right off of their hinges and kill me right then! Instead, a 5'6 ball of fortified confidence struts toward me yelling "Where do you think you're going?!" Like we weren't in a chapel that echoes the quietest whispers from wall to wall. While my ears recovered from her scarce entrance, she tosses a notebook and pen in my direction demanding me to write. I look up from watching it slide across the floor about to respond, but she was already gone. Without even questioning how she knew I was about to leave my saving grace, I started to write. And within a few minutes, I compose a song that became my heart's' War Cry.

To give you some context: this time last year I was in a rehab called Teen Challenge. I had just decided to leave after only being there for two months to walk back into a life controlled by money, sex, and drugs. But this time I wasn't going to hold back. I'd have given it a month tops, and someone would have found me in some alley OD'd. Thankfully, before I left, another student had a feeling I was about to make the worst decision of my life and advised me to write because she knew music would be the only thing that would save me. So, I did. The song I wrote is called War Cry. It changed my perspective from saying I was in a living hell to waking up at six a.m. every morning ready to be a better me than I was the day before.

Now, I ended up getting kicked out of the program a few short months later, but when I returned home, I declared my life would never be the same. Being an addict and going to live back in your home town where all of your shenanigans happened is the scariest decision I had to make. Drugs were only a call away. However, it is now February 2021; and I can say I've survived. I spent the rest of 2020 learning my strengths and weaknesses and becoming acquainted with this new me. Now that I've become very comfortable wearing positivity and confidence as my favorite outfit every day, I get to use this year to finally start building a strong foundation for the life I dreamt of as a little girl. Which now consists of the job I'm so passionate about, a bomb husband, and little ones I can't wait to have running around one day. I know, it sounds like the cliche suburban family American dream, but I call it stability. I guess, as far as a husband and kids go, that is not something I can control other than continuing to wake up every day promising to be the young woman who I have finally found my true identity in. As long as I am that, my man will find me, and little ones will come after that.

My dream job is to be a social worker. I was adopted as a little girl into the perfect family that spoiled me to high-heavens. But even growing up in the perfect family raised by the best parents I still had pain that hurt enough to lead me into a deep dark hole for nine years of my life. And I didn't even have it hard! The kids that are out there being abused- passed from one foster parent to the next, I can hardly imagine the pain that is branded on their hearts. All this being said, maybe social work isn't my dream job, but it spits me into the center of an environment where I can show unconditional love. Which leads me to my 2021 goal:

L O V E.

Love is what saved me. And not just surface-level love, but the kind where you're able to put your wants and needs aside and focus on the person in front of you- to understand what they need and do what you can to show them you want to try and speak their language. There have been so many people this past year who have done this for me. You'd think by knowing what I want and need that it is easy for me to put into action, but I beg to differ. Loving is hard, even if it is your favorite person on this planet. But love covers a multitude of mistakes.

I took last year for me, so this year is for others. I will make it a priority to meet others' needs. Take time to become aware of what it takes to make others feel noticed and understood. I am learning to listen to understand not being silent just to wait for my turn to speak. Love is a language I demand to speak fluently.

Speaking of love, I might be closer to my future than expected! It is February! Cupid's in the air!