Something to believe in

Last night I was talking to a friend of mine about various things, and one of the issues that came up was her thoughts on how lucky I am to have found such a "good guy". I put it in quotes because it seems that so many girls these days all refer to the man of their dreams, whether he's currently in their life or not, as a "good guy". I actually think he's more than the all-too spoken of "good guy" and I would hate to limit his personality and character to that one description because he's so much more than a "good guy" to me.

I just woke up a little while ago from this kind of awkward dream. I guess the thing that made it awkward was that it wasn't entirely unbelievable. I could imagine myself in the same situation that my dream placed me in, and that's why I was so relieved when I came to my senses and realized that it was just a dream. A few years ago, though, that dream could've easily been a part of my reality. It was kind of disturbing, and I shouldn't really call it a dream because it was more of a nightmare. I've had dreams/nightmares like this before, and I think the reason why I'm referring to it as a dream now is because its contents doesn't disturb me as much as it would have in the past. So, what was this particular dream about? It was about my childhood, except in the dream, I was the same age as I am now, 22. I found myself living with my parents and feeling defenseless against my mother's husband, as I did so many times when I was a child. The odd part about it is that in my dream I WAS NOT a child, but I still felt like I could not find the right words to prove my innocence to my stepdad. He always did such a good job of making me feel bad, and I wasn't a bad kid. I did well in school, studied all the time (mostly to escape having to spend time around the stepdad), and I helped out around the house as much as I could. That wasn't enough for him, though. He still found something to criticize me for, whether it was my inability to put the right utensil in its designated spot in the utensil drawer, or my failure to use the appropriate amount of toilet paper when I used the restroom, there was always something...after awhile, the insecurity set-in so deep that I started to question my own worth as a result of not being able to follow all of my stepdad's requests as perfectly as he would've liked.

I spent some time away from "home" when I was in high school, but that only happened because my mom and stepdad temporarily separated. It was during that time that I came to understand my situation a little better, I realized more and more that I was not the problem, but that I was actually a victim of verbal abuse. There were other situations that more clearly indicated verbal abuse than the aforementioned ones. I wasn't the only one, my mother also experienced the same treatment as I did, but she was desensitized by it so it no longer influenced her the way it affected me. Despite the fact that my parents eventually reunited, I was able to get myself out of that environment a few years later, it was my junior year of college, to be exact.

It seems that this story about my past has nothing to do with the first paragraph in this little blog entry of mine, but it really does. You see, after I woke up from this dream that temporarily sent me back in time, I had a sense of peace. Of course, the dream didn't exactly give me that peace, but I found peace in my present situation. I don't really feel I am lucky to have found such a wonderful man, the one who I currently refer to as my fiance. I see him as an answer to a prayer. My faith in God constantly sustained me when I was young. I always believed that there was a being who was able to give perfect love, despite the fact that I was in a place where I rarely felt loved. As a result of having faith in such a being, I continued to pray. I made a constant request to God that I would be able to feel his love one day. I knew it would be hard to feel that kind of love in this world, where people incessantly hurt each other because they themselves are unhappy, but I kept believing that one day I would get a glimpse of it. I think a lot of people in my situation would have probably come to believe that there wasn't really a God. They would wonder how a loving God could ever allow one of his children to be exposed to so much hurt. Everyone experiences their own hell on Earth where it's hard to believe in God. Only few people continue to believe in goodness when it's nearly impossible to find in most places. But I truly feel that it's so much easier to identify real love after not having been exposed to it. I think the reason why so many people have a hard time identifying it even when it's right in front of their face is because their perspective on life and love has become tainted by the very people that hurt them the most. Negative people easily bring other people down to their level, but it takes someone with a belief in something greater than that negativity to refuse to be brought down along with it. Love requires us to harden ourselves to evil, not to goodness, but, as a safety mechanism, people usually harden themselves to both. Honestly, the only reason why I wasn't completely hardened was because I continued to believe in perfect Love, or God. So...why aren't I lucky as a result of having someone in my life whose love reassures my faith? Because I am blessed. I am simply someone who had their prayer answered, even though I prayed the same prayer for so long.