Messages

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that my brain has this tendency to unearth Romanian words in place of really simple ones like car trunk. Earlier, a group of four very tall siblings walked into my store and the first thing I thought wasn’t wow they’re giants, it was wow, they’re uriaș – the Romanian word for giants. I have no idea why this happens, but it happens quite often. It’s like I simply can’t remember the English word for whatever it is I’m trying to say, but then I automatically remember it in Romanian.

Anyway, I don’t remember how exactly I had planned on transitioning this post, but I recently altered my body in a permanent way. I’ve been oscillating between loving it and feeling a horrible sense of regret and guilt. So much so, that the day after was conveniently Sunday and I went to church seeking answers. Thankfully, I got them.

I think I’ve mentioned it before, but it’s very hard to hear at my church cause it echoes. However, what I did hear, I firmly believe I was meant to hear: that we all have our crosses to bear and that God forgives all sins. Honestly, this made me feel way better about my decision because I take it to mean God doesn’t really care what I do to my body.

Funny thing is, like I said, I keep oscillating between loving and kinda hating it. The next day, I was painting and thinking about life and my recent decisions while listening to traditional Romanian music. While I was in a “I can’t believe I did that, why did I do that” phase, the following lyrics played: “păcate sunt pe pământ” which translates to “sins are of the earth”. It’s not necessarily that I go seeking these messages, but that whoever is watching out for me is sending them to me to make me understand that what I did isn’t the end of the world and isn’t something worth being condemned over. And it is such a relief every time.

Earlier I was feeling negative about it again. I sat down and scrolled through my Tumblr dash and found this: ”
Our culture teaches us about shame—it dictates what is acceptable and what is not. We weren’t born craving perfect bodies. We weren’t born afraid to tell our stories. We weren’t born with a fear of getting too old to feel valuable. We weren’t born with a Pottery Barn catalog in one hand and heartbreaking debt in the other. Shame comes from outside of us—from the messages and expectations of our culture. What comes from the inside of us is a very human need to belong, to relate.”

I swear someone is looking out for me. I have to believe that because it can’t just be chance that these messages are hurtling themselves my way. Also, somewhat ironically, this recent body change has brought me closer to God. Or perhaps broaden my spirituality. I’m okay with that.

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