I was the outcast – now I am rising up

  1. March 2020

Tell us who you are, a dear friend of mine said to me few years ago!

I have not told, not yet but perhaps I am realising who I am and now I have begun to tell.

Being an outcast from the beginning is hard and surviving is even harder.

After my mother passed away and my brother had told me what shit I was I left the country where I was born and hoped for a different future. I got a different future. I went to a country where I believe my deep roots lay and was optimistic and happy.

Few days before I left Iceland I decided to call my sister to say good bye and wish her all the best.

I listened to her telling me:  Because it is the last time we talk, she said, I am going to tell you how much everyone hated you!

She was the kind one, making sure I did not leave the country without knowing the truth!

The older brother always hated you, she said. You were the bastard and he despised you, she continued.

I listened to my sister and I thought about my childhood when I had to leave the home so she could take over my bed, and I remembered how scared I was. This sister told everyone outside the family how clever and intelligent her little sister was. No one knew how she really felt about me. I knew deep down because she had told me when I was 10 years old but I chose not to remember.

The last straw of a love from my closest family was gone through the window while I listened to my sister. I was happy to leave and there was nothing I wanted to remember. I just wanted to escape. I did not shed a tear. I was just relieved and looking ahead. I had heard so many times; you are not good enough!  I was not going to listen to that anymore. I was going to be free from my past and live in the now and embrace the future.

That was my plan and having a plan felt good. There would be some friends in Iceland I would miss, the friends that always stood by my side and supported me, and the friends who loved me like I was not how they wanted me to be. I still miss those friends and I love them dearly. Without them I would not have made it.

Now is the time when I am figuring out who I really am. Who is the woman inside me that lost the battle when attacked and retreated to another continent? Who is the woman I sometimes feel wants to take on the world and get justice for all and everyone? Who is she?

One day at a time I figure it out. One day at a time I approach the beauty inside the soul. One day at a time I forgive her for not being perfect. One day at a time I tell her that she deserves love and the most important love is inside her heart and she is the giver. One day at a time I explain to her that loving oneself is a virtue, not a sin. One day at a time I tell her how lucky she is to be able to, despite everything, to love her life and being happy to breath in the sound of beauty around her every moment and every day.

One day at a time I disappear to the place where I found peace and love for the first time. I was young and I was hungry for love. I learned to love the nature and the power of the sea that kept us isolated and made it possible without realising it to love what we had, not what we wanted. The summer lives in the memory with all the peace and serenity and now faraway I am meditating and reliving the best time of my life. There is so much to be grateful for. Gratitude heals a broken soul and makes it big and helps it feel the happiness deep inside.

The little child inside is being embraced these days and the outcast is finding a new home where it is safe to express feelings and everything is well.

This is my thought for today which I share with you my reader. This is my road to recovery I am walking during those impossible times when the world is in chaos and the question is if we will survive.

Hulda Björnsdóttir

Author: ebemiede2

I do blog about different matters that interest me.

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