Really interesting article I spotted on Christiana’s blog (www.christianam.tumblr.com). To love is to forgive, to choose to let go, to allow healing in. I hope to love more.

“Something happened to me. I suspect it’s one of the most pivotal moments in my adult life thus far. I think there’s only one moment in the last few years to outstrip its significance, and that involved surviving a car accident that broke parts of me that couldn’t be retrieved from the wreckage. I use the word think because I could be wrong. My instinct tells me I’m right.

What’s interesting is how ordinary the moment was in comparison to my car accident. There were no sirens. No streams of blood. No screams. No overturned vehicle. No sisters armed with courage and love. No angels masquerading as passersby, sending up prayers to heaven for girls they didn’t know. No paramedic to tell you you’d forever have a scar as a reminder you’re a lucky girl. There was only silence. Yet in an instant, how I perceived people was permanantly altered.

The moment highlighted my insignificance, how ephemeral life is and that to love with no sense of boundary or caution, is the greatest risk of all.

I saw a side of myself and others that I hoped would never be my reality. I was astounded by the depth of my naivety. It made me afraid. So afraid I lept outside of myself and saw how when my naivety is exploited, that my heart morphs from a beautiful chapel lit with hope and love, to a tight chamber darkened by hate and anger.

As the event replayed in my mind, I found myself grappling with the plethora of options that lay before me. I could rightfully cause a scene. I could divide and conquer those involved. I could become bitter. Allow my intentions to become poisoned by cruel circumstances. I could stay hurt. I could eternally relive the events, wounding myself with each recollection. I could regress to my younger self, hide my wounds and allow them to fester. I could allow the wounds to become scars, and hide them in shame. Or I could love all those involved.

Love them with intent. Love them in the places they’re broken. Love where they’re beautiful. Love myself enough to know to hate anyone would be a disservice to the woman I’m striving to become. Love them with wisdom. Love them with poise. Love them with everything I have within me. Love so much it heals me and heals those around me. Love until my heart and mind were in concert with the choice that they must do nothing else but love. Love through tears. Love through discomfort. Love through the disappointment. Love because it is the purest and only thing I have to give.

I chose to love.

This is big for me simply because for the first time in my life, I’m making my choices, rather than my choices making me. I am making difficult choices. Some days the burden of the choice feels so cumbersome I wonder if I made the right decision, then I remember to choose to live a lie is the heaviest load.

I chose to come to Brooklyn. I chose to leave my comfort zone. I chose to use this space to chronicle this journey rather than hide. I chose to never to return to spaces and places that diminished me. I chose to live my truth.

Initially when my perception of others was altered, it darkened the lens through which I view the world. I became more Hobbesian. My suspicions about the duplicity, wickedness and brokeness of human beings were affirmed. People are horrible, I had my final proof.
When I chose to love, it altered my perception of the events and others in a way that’s changed me forever. People just need more love. We all need love. It’s that simple. And rather than allowing things to harden and bend me into someone I’m not, I must endeavour to love more no matter how difficult it becomes. Love is the panacea.

I’m glad I chose love.”

-Christiana