I was born on January 2, 1987. As the first born of the family and first born grandchild of my maternal grandparents, high expectations were placed on me. I was expected to have high grades, much intelligence, strong spiritual grounding, high morals, and always try to be the best in everything.
I was told during school years that receiving A grades was expected and that B grades were disappointing. Imagine how I felt when I struggled so desperately to succeed with flying colors in AP Chemistry (as one of two seniors in a class dominated by juniors) and to come out with C grades only. It was passing grades but I felt absolutely broken from it.
I was told to focus on my schoolwork to the point of being unable to focus on self realization, self consciousness, self esteem, and self development. When boys talked with me in school, I felt they were only trying to get help with their schoolwork (especially math class and Spanish class) and had no interest in me. How could they? Their goal was to take the easy route by getting me to explain it or for me to do their work. I wouldn't be surprised if some kids cheated off of me without me catching them.
Often when I tried to do something good or enjoyable, I would be reprimanded for not being good enough (though it was more of a hobby or experiment, I was still expected to perform near perfection). I clearly remember my mother reading something I wrote in middle school and receiving her reaction of "it's okay but it needs work". I had asked her what she thought of it and she focused on the grammar in review. She didn't take interest in the story though I was just experimenting and pushed me down about technicalities. I am sure she didn't mean to be so harsh to me but it left a lasting impression - not good enough. I struggled to try to bring things to her (prior and after) and kept getting mediocre/downer responses. After a while, I decided to quit trying to get approval but a subroutine system had already founded itself in my psyche: try to win approval but expect depressing disapproval. Even with praise, I was taught to take it as fake praise (still disapproving) so I could not raise myself out of this vicious whirlpool of emotional/mental pain.
I never wanted to admit it but this really affected my psyche. How could I be good enough when those that were supposed to be there for me looked at my efforts in disdain? It wasn't just in schoolwork and writing, though. This expectation statute that they set forward was with my music (piano and flute), modesty, cooking, spiritual life, relationships, and more: be the best, be a shining example, and nothing less than best is good enough. [I am a horrible cook aside spaghetti because they never gave me good lessons in the kitchen, but I am learning how to make food now years after leaving their home and look forward to improvement.]
They expected so much of me in all aspects and I think this is a burden that many first born children receive. It hurt me more than I cared to admit because it transformed from words in my ear into a fester in my soul and self so that I had a hard time reaching out anymore. I always thought that I was never abused because abuse is physical but I just realized recently that it can be emotional and mental just like what they did to me with their responses and expectations.
Spiritually, they expected me to be a "candle on the hilltop" example for the world. I struggled so hard to be that but I kept feeling an emptiness inside of me. Something was missing but I couldn't figure out what. I called myself Christian but something kept gnawing inside. It wasn't right. I didn't feel right. If I was supposed to be the happy "born again" Christian and I had gone through the motions, how come I still felt like I was missing something?
I surrounded myself with Christian friends, listened to Christian music, read Christian books, and attended many Christian related events and groups but I still didn't feel that "everlasting peace and joy" that was supposed to be the product of such an outpouring of one's self into such activity. I thought if I rededicated myself to the path that this happiness and peace would be mine and I would find fulfillment. Alas, even after two baptisms (for which I felt really good immediately after), I felt wrong. Something was off and I couldn't figure out what. Maybe it was just me or maybe my surroundings.
Years after graduating from a Baptist faith-based university (for which I regret the amount of debt and seemingly wasted years, in hindsight, I have put into for that piece of paper I rarely use in real life), I found more meaning in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in a few months than in years in their churches. I really feel a connection to my heavenly Father and this is a good thing. Beforehand, I felt empty but now I don't. Even with becoming LDS, I still struggled to become an individual because I continued to hear the echoes of disappointment and high expectations from my family. It didn't help that they kept denying my happiness saying that the LDS church is blasphemous and an occult. How can something that enhances my life (emotionally and spiritually) be bad? And yet they continue to this day to say that it is false and that I am spiritually lost.
My self esteem issues have been a big part of my psyche. I accepted being fat and "ugly" as my burden, unable to truly accept compliments. Along with assuming and being told that boys in school had no interest in me, my family never encouraged me to try being better or feeling better about myself. I kept failing at meeting their expectations that I dropped all dreams of a better life. This manifested through neglecting my physical self as well as my emotional and mental side. I allowed myself to become obese and wear terrible clothes. How could I flaunt myself when I felt my body was not worthy?
I understand that they taught me modesty due to the fact that my maternal grandfather was a pervert that tried to sexually abuse my mother when she was younger and had wandering eyes around myself and my female cousins. Multiple times he grasped my rear and the "spider senses" told me it was wrong, so I would move out of his grasp. Because of what he did to my mother and how he reacted blossoming female teens, I could not experiment with fashion or my style. I remember one day (over 20 years old) relaxing on the couch and my shirt lifted itself slightly. I felt good but my mother, though there were no guests over, was revolted. "Cover yourself up" she shrieked and my thought was maybe any visible skin was a cardinal sin. It really hurt my emotional psyche and I have had issues, between being around my grandfather and my mother's scolding, that makes it hard to be comfortable around others when not fully covered up from nearly neck to knees.
I always felt that I was a secure individual and proud of the person I was when in reality I felt like I could never be good enough at anything, my spiritual side was empty, and I quietly hated my physical self. It has taken me thirty-two years to figure myself out, which is a long time to discover one's self. Most would have done these reflections, experiments and built their self up when they were a teenager but I was rejected this.
In the years since I graduated with my second degree (which is even less valuable to me than my first degree), I met a friend that was/is unbelievably good to me. He said that he would like me for who I was but that maybe I needed to improve myself. "Don't keep letting yourself be put down" he said when we first met. He has been a support through everything, especially during the period of time where my family judged me for becoming LDS. "If it makes you happy, go for it. You don't need to change for others. Just change to better yourself for yourself."
They have berated, belittled, judged, dehumanized, and hated him. Why? Because he isn't what they expected for me. He isn't a short haired, Protestant, college educated, rich or high-paid, quiet push-over. He is not what they expected for me and therefore have given him nothing but crap, even though I am happy with him and he is one of my best friends. I would tell them that I am permanently with him but, even after nearly eight years since he met them, they keep him at arm's length as if he is a toxic contagion that will drastically change/destroy their lives like he has "destroyed" mine. In fact, my mother has suggested (in the last year) that we divorce so that I "wouldn't have to be with someone like him". Why she would say this when she has been the cause of my agony? Maybe to keep control of her daughter, is my guess. Maybe she is trying to live a different life vicariously through me… I don't know the reason but it hurts me so terribly. I've tried to forgive them before and move past it but it always seems to come back at me - he's not good enough for you; you need someone else.
Though I received a Bachelors in Spanish and an Associates in Management Accounting, I have not used them. They (being my family, especially my grandfather in this case) disapproved and scolded me for wasting all that time and money just to not use it for work. Well, as a bus driver, yes sometimes I have had to use my Spanish to communicate with passengers (especially those visiting from other places). Even with non-English and non-Spanish speakers, I have learned to try to give the passenger a chance to speak even if it is a slower conversation because they are struggling with words. My family has given me grief for being a bus driver and my response has been simple: I like it, it pays my bills, I don't have to go for more education, and I'm fairly good at it. What more can they ask for, realistically? In my opinion, nothing. I like my job and it sustains me. Sure, it doesn't give as much as a CFO of a major company but that's too much work and too much stress for me.
One major thing they don't like about this career change [aside the fact I changed my mind, in college, against being a teacher which had been my childhood dream] is that my friend suggested trying being a commercial driver. I didn't think I could do it (driving a forty-five foot bus is intimidating, even without passengers on board!) but I was able to pass my written tests and the driving test and have been a bus driver for nearly seven years. Yes, there have been times when I have just wanted to quit being a bus driver but I keep going back to it. It pays the bills and I am decent at it. There are also days where people just make my day, make me laugh, and make me feel approved of. How awesome it is when you are on schedule and passengers say "thank goodness you're here!". Even off schedule on a fixed route, many passengers that understand bad weather and traffic will end up saying "I'm glad you came. Sure you're late but you came and I didn't miss you." I've had many passengers that have just been so wonderful, even in only brief periods or one-time rides, that my heart feels full. I do a good job at being a bus driver and my passengers (with the occasional jerk or upright unrelenting prick) like me being there, knowing that they are being taken care of.
I sit here, upon reflection of the thirty-two years so far, and realize that my life isn't what I want it to be. I am miserable because I feel like they are constantly on my shoulder with a disapproving glare and a "not good enough". I am miserable because I hate my body (especially the fat) and the fact that I have not taken care of it. I am miserable because they keep knocking down my faith. I am miserable because they keep degrading and disapproving of my marriage. I am miserable and I hate it.
I hate my name "Rebekah" because I was ingrained with the "it's the Biblical spelling" reasoning. I feel like that name is dripping with everything they expected and wished of me, and it is poisonous to me because their wishes and my choices are not in sync. As much as I have tried, I just can't be whom I want to be with all that they have wanted for me hanging around my emotional/mental self like a noose or harness. I need to change to become better for myself. I can't continue like this without being miserable. I thought, in disillusion, that getting married and changing my last name would change their minds but that hasn't happened and predictions are that that will never happen. My decision, therefore, has been to change myself drastically. If my name "Rebekah" reminds me of all of their falsehoods, mean-spirited remarks and actions, unrealistic expectations, and disappointment, why should I live with it? I will have a hard time overcoming all of this with that negative canopy over me so I will do something to improve myself. In legal stuff (taxes, bills, work, medical, etc), my name will stay "Rebekah" but I will start telling people to call me "Gracie".
In the last few years, I have created this alter persona named "Gracie Mae DeLunac" (which many on my blog and Twitter know already) which is my pen name. She doesn't have all of this backstory bullshit on her conscious so she can do what she wants. She is creative and outgoing and looking forward to new things. Since this is my pen name, I will take "Gracie" as my new nickname: "Hi, my name is Rebekah but please call me Gracie."
I came to this conclusion early morning during reflection on Monday February 18, 2019 to change. It made me feel so good inside that I almost fell asleep immediately, which is amazing because I have not been sleeping well for days thanks to a torn PCL ligament in the right knee and lumbar spine strain. I tested it at my chiropractor on the 18th and it made me feel wonderful. I haven't felt this good since I found the LDS church to be so caring and accepting and a good fit for my soul. I can change for the better. It seems a bit drastic to do this in this manner but other changes have not stuck. I need to cut my old life out of my present life so that I can enjoy my present and have a good future. I don't know what life is going to bring my way but I do feel like it will be okay. I would love to say that my Gracie persona is more resilient and stronger but that remains to be seen. This change won't change who I am at my core (passionate, caring, empathetic, curious, intelligent, creative) but will let me get past the hurt of the past and let me improve towards the better.
So, that's what I have been through and I would like to say "Nice to meet you, I am Gracie."
~ Gracie
Tuesday February 19, 2019.
